


define it, don't defy it

by naegahosh



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous Relationships, Coming of Age, Developing Relationship, Emotional Constipation, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, slight hyung kink and school uniform kink in the last few paragraphs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naegahosh/pseuds/naegahosh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soonyoung receives a love confession from Mingyu. There are two problems with this:</p><p>1) He’s twenty-seven and Mingyu’s eighteen.<br/>2) They live under the same roof.</p>
            </blockquote>





	define it, don't defy it

**Author's Note:**

> …i have lots of things to say   
>  1\. this is an age gap fic. if you’re uncomfortable with it, please don’t read!   
>  2\. i tried to reflect the south korean background as much as i could, like the korean age system and things like suneung (s. korean college entrance exam), korean university subcultures, military enlistment, and etc. hopefully it’s not too confusing!   
>  3\. there is no backstory on how soonyoung came to take mingyu under his wing. absolutely none. i am ready to be stoned.   
>  4\. based on an age difference prompt i saw online (and lost) ages ago, but i will add as soon as i find it!   
>  5\. lots of fast-forwarding because I can’t carry a consistent plot for shit   
>  6\. this was never supposed to be this long or _s l o w_   
>  7\. [insert hoshi’s ‘it was very OTL’ gif]   
>  8\. but nevertheless i hope you enjoy and happy reading!

“Why not?”

Mingyu’s tense voice flowed into Soonyoung ears, the words numbing its pathway as it violently shook his insides.

Soonyoung had a long day. There was some kind of miscommunication at work that was nowhere near his fault that had him called to his superior’s office. For hours he’d been screamed at, spit and fax papers getting thrown into his face, and Soonyoung had to stay back late in order to fix whatever crap his incompetent sunbaes had passed onto him.

He was tired and wanted this day to be over. He expected to come home with Mingyu just coming home himself after hakwon. Planned to watch TV and fall sleep on the sofa as Mingyu worked on his homework in front of him, determined to wake up this time to check Mingyu’s pant pockets for cigarettes when the younger fell asleep.

But none of those things ensued and Soonyoung was still tired. Maybe that was why he was hearing things he wasn’t supposed to hear.

“Why not, hyung?”

Soonyoung didn’t know what to say to the boy in front of him.

Why not?  _Why not?_  Was Mingyu serious? Did he really want Soonyoung to open his mouth and vocally list out all the reasons why Mingyu…

“Why can’t I like you?”

…should stop talking this instant?

“Mingyu…” Soonyoung croaked, feeling the faint throbbing in his head escalate into a slight migraine. He stalled for time, searching for something he could say that was relatively mild. With every movement, his white button down shirt felt cumbersome against his skin.

“I’m twenty-seven. You’re eighteen. Hell, I’m your fucking guardian. Shall I go on?”

Mingyu drew his closely knit brows even tighter. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth, his glare intensifying as if to bore a hole into Soonyoung’s face.

“Okay,” Mingyu let out in a low voice, roughly taking off his uniform jacket in a single motion. The navy piece of clothing landed on the floor. “How about now?”

Mingyu has always had a rebellious edge, but Soonyoung—he was usually an exception. The kid never deliberately made anything difficult for him. Mingyu continued, ripping the plastic name plate off his chest. Soonyoung’s eyes widened.

“Now?”

He took a step forward and Soonyoung faltered back, the back of his knees colliding with the sofa seat. Mingyu didn’t stop. He grabbed his uniform tie and pulled violently. The tie came off loose, sliding off of Mingyu’s hands. Stumbling back and involuntarily plopping down onto the sofa, Soonyoung blinked up as Mingyu stared down at him.

Since when had Mingyu gotten so tall?

Soonyoung tried to get up but Mingyu pinned him back down, his dark eyes pooled with helpless frustration. Before Soonyoung could budge, Mingyu climbed on top of him, his thighs straddling him in place. Mingyu leaned in, his lips grazing against his ears.

“And now? Am I still too young?”

The world spun. Soonyoung stared, eyes round past its usual size, unable to hear and feel anything but the hot air that irregularly puffed out of Mingyu’s mouth. Soonyoung wet his lips. They were dry, the moisture stinging his chapped lips.

“…Kim Mingyu.”

Mingyu flinched, as Soonyoung’s hand slid up his thighs and dug into his front pockets. His gaze fell onto a wrinkled, half-empty cigarette pack as Soonyoung held it up.

“What did I tell you about smoking?”

There was a pause. A short, fleeting one, that felt like _years_ , until Mingyu’s eyelashes quivered. He immediately pushed himself off, cussing under his breath and face flushing deep red. A few seconds later the door slammed close, and it didn’t take long for Soonyoung to realize that he may have handled the situation wrong.

“Shit.”

Soonyoung ran out, barefoot and half of his buttons undone, his eyes shooting up to the red ‘1’ on top of the elevator. Shit. Mingyu had already reached the first floor, off to wherever Soonyoung couldn’t find him.

Shit, shit,  _shit._  Soonyoung stepped back into the apartment and leaned against the door. As if to have lost all strength, his legs gave in, and Soonyoung slid down to bury his face into his knees.

This wasn’t fair. Mingyu started a game that both of them couldn’t win. Their relationship was hard to place. He knew that. But if Soonyoung really had to put it into words, Mingyu was like a younger brother. They were biologically unrelated, but none of that mattered when Soonyoung had taken care of him since Mingyu was nine. The young boy then, had started out by calling him ahjussi. Soonyoung didn't mind it. Which was why he didn't make anything of it when Mingyu refused to call him ahjussi one morning, reluctantly settling for calling him ‘hyung’.

Soonyoung carelessly tossed his phone on the floor. Grabbed it back. Unlocked the screen, and let his fingers hover pointlessly.

Mingyu wasn’t picking up. After the twelfth try, the call itself didn't go through. Mingyu must've turned the device off. Restless and suddenly scared, Soonyoung called Seokmin, impatience getting the best of him when he didn't pick up after the third ring.

Soonyoung almost whimpered in relief when Seungkwan picked up his phone.

"Ahjussi?" Came Seungkwan's confused voice. "Is everything alright?" 

"Do you know where Mingyu might be?" Soonyoung blurted, omitting all context. "Or where he might go?"

Seungkwan was silent for a minute, then sighed with a hint of laughter mingled in his breath. "Ah, Kim Mingyu, this idiot's giving our ahjussi troubles again, isn't he."

There were both relief and discomfort in the fact that Soonyoung didn’t have to explain why Mingyu wasn't home past midnight. Maybe he'd been too careless on Mingyu lately. Did he even go to hakwon like he said he did? What was Mingyu getting on his tests these days? 

He didn't remember. 

"Don't worry too much, ahjussi. You know Mingyu, he probably lost track of time at the PC Bang or something." Seungkwan was still chirping away cheerily. "I'll let you know if I get in touch with him. I'll yell at him for you!"  

Soonyoung nodded limply, something knotting within him and obscuring Seungkwan’s words. By the time he realized he should say something, the line was already dead. Soonyoung stayed motionless by the door, sitting on the cold tiles of the threshold, waiting for Mingyu to come back. The clock ticked in dreadful silence as hours passed by. 

When Soonyoung couldn't feel his legs at all, he got up, limping his way as blood rushed to his legs and painfully woke up his nerves. He picked up Mingyu's clothes and name plate that were scattered across the floor, and opened the door to Mingyu's room. He shivered as the sheets of Mingyu's bed felt ice cold against his skin, trying not to cry as he draped his arm over his eyes.

He was the adult here. The responsible one, the rational one.

The fucking sane one. 

When Soonyoung snapped awake to the ringing of his alarm, he realized it was morning. Mingyu still hadn't come home. He pushed himself up, rubbing his dry face when he discovered himself on Mingyu's bed.

He was seriously way too fucking young to be raising a teenager. 

Soonyoung walked into their living room, his eyes automatically skating towards the couch where Mingyu had fixed Soonyoung between his legs the night before. He’d looked down at him in soundless pain. In an expression Soonyoung couldn’t imagine what it held.

Barely resisting the urge to slap his own cheeks, Soonyoung paced into the washroom and hastily turned on the tab. Water gushed out and splashed over the edge of the sink, and Soonyoung splattered freezing water onto his face to wash away whatever he was feeling. To wash away the heat. He looked up, afraid that he might see something he wasn't supposed to, relief escaping his lips when he was met with his own pale, wet reflection.

_Why not, hyung? Why can't I like you?_

Mingyu's voice rang as clear as his reflection against his ears. Soonyoung slid down, unable to look into the mirror as a second surge of heat mounted to his face.

He was obviously lacking sleep.

 

◆

 

The day at work was even worse than the day before. Stacks of papers piled endlessly on top of Soonyoung's desk, the nagging voice of his superior going in through one ear and escaping through the other. Mingyu still wasn't picking up. He wasn't reading his Kakao messages. Soonyoung was on the verge of hurling the stack of papers into his superior's face, screaming at him to go fuck himself before driving over to Mingyu's school.

But Soonyoung was an adult. He blocked all useless noise, every sensory nerve steered to be hyperaware of his motionless phone. He let his thoughts wander around aimlessly. It was mostly in circles, starting with things like gas bills, groceries, and tax reports, to always arrive back to a terminal called Kim Mingyu. His phone was still resentfully soundless, and Soonyoung’s hands somehow moved on its own to produce crap that his sunbaes would take all the credit for.  

By the time Soonyoung looked up from his seat, the office was empty. The clock pointed to half past noon, which meant it was lunch hour and everyone had left to indulge every millisecond of their short break. Soonyoung noticed a freshly-wrapped sandwich next to his phone. With a heart-shaped post-it, it read,

_Soonyoung-ssi, fighting!  
-Dahee_

Soonyoung took the post-it and wearily rubbed the pink paper between his thumb and forefinger. Dahee was the employee who sat two seats next to his cubicle, sporting a cute bob and a dazzling smile, and she never got discouraged despite Soonyoung’s mediocre response. Soonyoung reached for the sandwich, dropping it promptly when his phone suddenly vibrated with a new message. Kim Mingyu.

Soonyoung felt his stomach sink at the sight of Seungkwan’s name.

 ** _Boo Seungkwan_**  
_ahjussiiiiiiiiiiiii_  
_mingyu just came to school_  
_he’s at the principal’s office getting his ass kicked by park, i think_

Okay, so at least he was at school. Soonyoung brushed his fingers through his hair, feeling like he was actually breathing for the first time since Mingyu had run out of the house last night. Relief came first, anger came second.

Anger that Mingyu still hadn’t bothered to contact him, making Soonyoung worry like he’d never had in his entire life. Once he knew that Mingyu was safe, Soonyoung had the leisure to catch up with sensible thinking. It mockingly told him that that was probably Mingyu’s point. To make Soonyoung worry, suffer even—because he probably deserved it—after ruthlessly defining the gap between them after a fucking _love confession._

Soonyoung swallowed down the rising self-hate, his own guilt changing the direction of his anger. Mingyu would come home bruised from Principal Park’s infamous habit of swinging around his wooden bat. Corporeal punishment had long been banned, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening. They knew that Soonyoung was Mingyu’s guardian. Being half of Park’s age and most of the school staff, they never took him seriously. And Soonyoung knew how that impacted the way teachers looked at Mingyu.

People started shuffling back into the office, the usual buzz increasing in volume but passing right over Soonyoung’s head. Two minutes before lunch hour was over, Soonyoung mustered the courage and clicked on Mingyu’s name on his phone. It would be the thousandth message that Mingyu wouldn’t read, but it didn’t matter.

The sandwich remained untouched.

 

◆

 

“Well what did you expect, you just barged into the classroom in the middle of our chemistry exam, missing like 80% of your uniform.”

Mingyu glared down at Seokmin who was sitting in front of him, stuffing his face with cafeteria tonkatsu. Unable to sit—Park really loved whacking his ass, that sadistic old nut—Mingyu was posed awkwardly above the chair as he tried to deliver food into his mouth. The spoonful of rice dropped unceremoniously onto his tattered shirt.

“Where were you last night?” Seungkwan looked up from his tray, crinkling his nose. “Ahjussi called me to ask where the hell you were.”

“Yeah, I had a few missed calls from him too.” Seokmin stopped chewing, seeing the way Mingyu’s face hardened. “I was sleeping so I couldn’t answer,” He drawled again, “but what happened to wanting to be a good son?”

Fucking _fuck._

Mingyu chucked his spoon onto the tray, the irritating screech scraping his eardrums as the silverware slid across.

“He’s not my fucking dad, fucktard.”

Mingyu seethed, kind of wanting to sock Seokmin in the face, but instead diving down to snatch the tonkatsu at the end of Seokmin’s chopsticks into his mouth. He swallowed forcibly, ignoring Seokmin who looked as though Mingyu had just insulted his entire generation of dead grandfathers. The fried pork tasted rusty, mashed against the bloody wound inside his mouth.

“Did you even let ahjussi know where you slept last night?” Seungkwan sat up, hunching over his tray so that Mingyu wouldn’t steal his food. “He sounded really worried. At least let him know that you’re alive if you’re a decent human being.”

Without answering, Mingyu shot him a look that snapped _mind your own business, brat_ , not that Seungkwan would ever grace him a polite flinch. Unable to withstand Seungkwan’s persistent staring and jabbing of his finger into his deflated conscience, Mingyu heaved a sigh and took out his phone. He deliberately pressed the power button with force, tossing the phone onto the table while it rebooted.

In a second, Mingyu’s phone shook, or more like had a seizure, as it spasmed and flashed with missed call notifications and influxes of text messages.

“Holy crap.” Seokmin offered. “My mom needs to see how much of a good son I am.”

He snapped his mouth shut when Seungkwan jabbed him in the ribs, but Mingyu just stared down at his phone, jaws clenched and seemingly apathetic.

He slowly picked up his phone, rolling his thumb down the screen that was filled with Soonyoung’s profile picture.

 ** _Soonyoungie Hyung_**  
_mingyu_  
_mingyu-ya, pls answer the phone_  
_let’s talk_  
_please?_  
_where are you?_  
_just tell me where you are?_  
_please come back_  
_at least read these messages_  
_please_  
_kim mingyu…_

There were more of them, still incoming and along the same lines as Mingyu continued to scroll down.

Then as soon as he reached the last message that was sent about an hour ago, Mingyu felt something crack under his chest. The pieces broke as they came crumbling down, the sharp edges scraping and chafing the walls of his insides.

_mingyu-ya, you can’t pour out on me like that and then just disappear  
i don’t know what to do with myself _

Soonyoung had never sound so exhausted. So lost.

_…i’m still young too_

The last one was like a cold slap across his face. Soonyoung was twenty-seven. He should be going out clubbing, scoring dates and getting laid, not picking up Mingyu after English hakwon and checking his pockets for any cigarettes he might’ve lured out of his seniors.

Everything suddenly felt so pointless. His one stupid confession wasn’t worth making things so hard for Soonyoung. Hyung didn’t deserve this, yet ultimately, it was him who had brought the burden onto someone he liked so damn fucking much.

He fucked up.

Mingyu straightened with his tray, and his two friends looked up at him curiously.

“Well?” Seungkwan demanded, “Did you message ahjussi back? You…”

“I don’t feel like eating.” Mingyu cut him off, heading for the trashcan until Seokmin grabbed the hem of his shirt. “What?” Mingyu hissed, and Seokmin peered down into his barely touched tray.

“You have some tonkatsu left for donation, friend.”

Mingyu almost stuffed the tray down Seokmin’s throat. 

Sprawled over his desk, Mingyu stared at his Kakao Talk screen again. He tapped on Soonyoung’s picture, enlarging it and staring at it, filling himself up with Soonyoung until he felt like he couldn’t stuff his heart any fuller. He had to say something, now that Soonyoung knew that Mingyu read his messages—and fuck his life, Mingyu almost threw his phone as soon as he realized that it was Soonyoung who bought him the expensive phone and paid for his bills at the end of every month. And Mingyu really would’ve—crashed the device out his own idiotic fury—if it wasn’t for the sudden need to hear Soonyoung’s voice.

Soonyoung answered before the first dial tone could even go through. His breaths sounded like they were hitching, as if Soonyoung couldn’t tell if he wanted to cry or scream. Mingyu tried to help by clearing his throat.

“Hi, hyung.”

He waited for Soonyoung to yell, bracing himself to hear whatever the hell hyung had stashed inside his poor confused mind all night. So when he heard Soonyoung’s voice flow through the line, Mingyu blinked in consternation, his heart pounding erratically fast against his ribcage.

“Are you okay?” Soonyoung’s pretty voice simmered with concern. “I heard you got called to the principal’s office.”

He could tell that Soonyoung was trying so hard to be careful. He held his breath, trying to clamp down his heart in place.

Soonyoung sighed when he didn’t respond.

“Mingyu… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that last night, I didn’t realize what it could’ve looked like, I didn’t,” Soonyoung paused. “…I really suck at this whole adult thing, don’t I.” 

It was impossible. Mingyu couldn’t suddenly stop liking Kwon Soonyoung. He didn’t want to stop. And moreover, he didn’t have a choice to begin with.

“Hyung,” Mingyu exhaled, finding the natural act so difficult whenever Soonyoung emphasized that he was an adult. “I’ll be home after school and I want you to strip your stupid adult thing off. Let’s talk. Not as anyone or anything else but just as you and me.”

“Mingyu-ya,”

“I really, really like you hyung.”

He could hear a soft noise of air getting sucked back into Soonyoung’s throat. And before he could hear a remote response, Mingyu hung up, feeling all the blood in his body rush up to light his face on fire.

He bolted up and opened all the classroom windows, flapping the collars of his uniform shirt. He’d done it again, let out something he’d been bottling up for years—fucking _twice_ in twenty-four hours—and fuck, Mingyu wanted to jump out the window just imagining what Soonyoung might look like right now, staring at his phone in utter shock or confusion (whatever the hell Mingyu was to him these days).

…Probably really, really cute. Like a startled hamster, maybe.

He was found stupidly staring at Soonyoung’s picture again, when Seokmin and Seungkwan entered the classroom.

“My sister worked two jobs to pay off her tuition.” Seungkwan was rambling heatedly. “I don’t think my parents’ coffee shop is making enough money to cover mine and are you fucking kidding me? I can’t work part-time during senior year! I’ll fail my Suneung exam!”

By the look of Seokmin’s disgustingly sad pout, he seemed to be sharing the same dilemma. They both turned towards their friend, and Mingyu’s brows crisscrossed viciously.

Soonyoung had a separate savings account that was just for covering his tuition fees. Seokmin sounded sincerely envious.

“You’re lucky, dude.”

Mingyu almost threw him out the window.

 

◆

 

When Mingyu reached home, the house was empty but entirely lit. All the lights were on, including the kitchen, where rice, soup, and various plates of banchan laid cold and forlorn under a sheet of plastic wrap.

Sometimes Soonyoung could be so stupid.

He went straight into his room, feeling something inside of him swell at the sight of his bed. His sheets were rumpled and disarrayed, and Mingyu could visualize Soonyoung spread out over them, fast asleep, tired of waiting for him to come home. Mingyu strode over, perching on the edge of his bed and dropping his head into his hands. His heart felt strained, as if someone was pinching two sides of the muscle and stretching them within the expanse of his broad chest. His heart expanded with Soonyoung’s thoughts. Bloated with mixed emotions, over to a point that he thought he physiologically couldn’t handle it.

But at the end of the day, he _could_ handle it. No matter how many times he felt like he could die just by watching Soonyoung come out of his room dishevelled and still half-asleep, ruffling Mingyu’s hair before heading into the kitchen to make him breakfast, Mingyu could always make it.

Soonyoung on the other hand, probably couldn’t. He was already exhausted. Mingyu tried to remember what Soonyoung looked like when he said he liked him last night.

Scared.

Mingyu got up and headed towards the kitchen table. Heated up the rice and soup in the microwave. Sat down and ate. Forced the food down despite the urge to regurgitate, his goddamn obese heart probably obstructing the path for it to go down smoothly.

He was idly flipping through TV channels when he heard the front door unlock and Soonyoung stepped inside. He froze when he saw Mingyu, his slanted eyes forming an oval as he watched Mingyu make his way over and stop in front of him. The look in Soonyoung’s eyes screamed that he had countless things to say, but his lips were pressed into a thin line. As though to be afraid that Mingyu might run out and disappear again.

Mingyu took a deep breath. Tried to smile.

“Sorry for being an ass.” His mouth felt so constrained. “I was out of line yesterday… and today.”

Soonyoung looked surprised, his jaws dropping slightly. Mingyu waited patiently, and Soonyoung finally spoke.

“Is this where I have to strip off the adult thing?” His voice cracked.

“Strip?” Mingyu repeated idiotically, only to remember their conversation over the phone and what his mouth had gushed out. “No, hyung, you’re not stripping off anything.” Mingyu laughed, this time breaking out into a genuine chuckle because one, that almost made him scrap his recent determination, and two, Soonyoung was so unhelpfully cute.

“It won’t happen again.”

Soonyoung eased visibly. He nodded, his warm hand carefully caressing through Mingyu’s dark brown locks. His hand slid down to rub his thumb over Mingyu’s busted lip, his faint smile instantly getting replaced with a frown.

“I’m pulling you out of that damn school tomorrow.”

Soonyoung muttered, rushing past him into the kitchen. Mingyu watched Soonyoung disappear out of his sight, probably to get him some ice, no doubt. The shuffling of Soonyoung’s feet stopped, only to be followed by his astounded tone.

“…Mingyu, did you wash the dishes?”

Soonyoung’s head popped out, his eyes bending into crescents and cheeks rolling up to flash him an astonished smile.

“Okay, you must be really sorry.”

Or blow into his already inflated heart.

“I forgive you.”

Same thing. Mingyu grinned back.

 

◆◈◆

 

They never spoke of it again.

They never spoke of it again, but Soonyoung thought about it every day. Considering it had been over two hundred days since the incident, it meant that Soonyoung had thought about it over two hundred times.

Everything seemed like it was back to normal. Yet there was something different about their relationship just below the surface, veiled with forged indifference and nonchalance. Something that wasn’t there before that Soonyoung couldn’t name. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but sometimes it made Soonyoung want to curl his toes and wrap his arms around his lurching stomach.

He noticed things about Mingyu he’d never noticed before.

“Hyung, do you need help with that?”

Like, this morning. Soonyoung had turned around at Mingyu’s voice ( _deep_ voice, like _several_ pitches deeper than his own—was it always so deep?), to see the younger male standing by the entrance of the kitchen and towel-drying his hair. Soonyoung’s arms slid down along with his tiptoed heels, a pair of empty hands hanging in mid-air.

“What do you need?” Mingyu reached him in three easy strides, stopping closely behind him. Draping the towel over his bare shoulders, he extended one arm to reach the bowl in the upper cabinet. “This one?”

“No, the one on the left.” Soonyoung pointed, getting on his toes again. Mingyu shifted a bit to the side, his chin softly grazing over his head. Soonyoung’s lower lip jutted out in secret jealousy. Mingyu had grown even taller lately, to a point where Soonyoung had to tilt his head when Mingyu was standing so close.

“Damn, how did you even…”

Mingyu muttered. Before Soonyoung could know what he meant, Mingyu placed his other hand on the counter for support, leaning forward to grab what he was looking for—and caging Soonyoung in the process. Mingyu’s hard chest pressed up against his back, and Soonyoung stuck himself closer to the counter, his nerves suddenly a thousand times more sensitive as a set of toned arms came into his view. Mingyu lowered his chin.

“This one, right?”

He asked, a whiff of fresh cologne washing over Soonyoung like a tidal wave.

Soonyoung momentarily forgot what Mingyu was referring to.

“Hyung?”

His face felt hot.

“Y, yeah, that one.” He said quickly, breaking off eye contact. “Thanks.”

With a soft grunt, Mingyu grabbed the bowl and placed it on the counter. He withdrew, allowing Soonyoung to finally release the puff of air he wasn’t aware of holding. Every patch of skin that had brushed against Mingyu tingled with heat. Collided with the cool, spicy scent of cologne that lingered in the air, entering his system and intensifying the burning sensation. He felt hot and cold at the same time.

Maybe he’d caught a fever.

Soonyoung grabbed whatever was in his reach—an apple—and ran it under the faucet, ignoring the fact that he’d already washed it. He could feel Mingyu’s eyes on him, but Soonyoung refused to let his attention wander away from the fruit in his hands. Out of his peripherals, Mingyu yanked the towel off his shoulder and started to dry his hair rather vigorously again. Soonyoung hoped that the faint stream of early sunlight wasn’t bright enough to give his face away.

“You should stop putting things up so high, hyung.” Mingyu turned around, making his way back to the washroom. “You could get hurt.”

Soonyoung jumped with a start when he heard the hair dryer go on with a roar. His head snapped up. Feet spun around. Eyes like saucers as he stared at the mouth of the kitchen where Mingyu had been, now out of sight.

His pulse raced fast, thumping against his neck.

When the droning noise of the dryer died, Soonyoung jerked back to his senses and whirled back around. He let his eyes fall onto the counter top, covering half of his face when he saw the bowl. Something that neither resembled a laugh nor a sigh escaped his lips.

It wasn’t even the right bowl.

And Soonyoung had been completely out of it since. Barely resisting the urge to smash his head against the computer monitor, Soonyoung shook his head in an attempt to get back to work, simultaneously hoping it would somehow fling Mingyu too, out of his head.

It didn’t work.

He’d hardly typed four words into his computer before his face drained white with panic.

What the _hell_ was that? What was wrong with Kim Mingyu—no, what the hell was wrong with _him?!_ Soonyoung’s fingers typed furiously in frantic staccatos, unconsciously delivering his exact thoughts right into the document in front of him.

He almost fell out of his chair in shock when Dahee tapped his shoulder.

“Hard at work, Soonyoung-ssi?” The young woman smiled, joining her hands shyly behind her back.

“Yes—”

Soonyoung yelled without as much of a breath, his hands hastily making way to turn off his monitor. He was pretty sure he’d typed _lines_ of ‘Kim Mingyu’ in bold.

Dahee’s expression stirred slightly at the odd behaviour, but her smile returned when Soonyoung’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Sorry about that.” Said Soonyoung, his sigh carrying a glint of embarrassed laughter. He rubbed his neck wearily. “It’s Monday, I haven’t had coffee, and I’m still waiting for Manager Kang’s daily hysteria.”

“I feel you.” Dahee giggled behind her manicured nails, adding a sympathetic nod. “My turn hasn’t come yet either.”

Soonyoung chuckled, a polite gesture, to fill the void while he waited for Dahee to speak. Dahee seemed to notice the awkward pause, looking a little disappointed that their small talk was so short-lived. Her cheekbones began to tinge pink.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” She spoke, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “For staying after hours to help me with my presentation.”

Soonyoung blinked, trying to remember when that had happened.

It might’ve been last Thursday. Mingyu had called him to ask when he’d be coming home. He’d arrived later that night, past one in the morning. Found Mingyu dozing off at the kitchen table with a textbook spread out in front of him, head swaying dangerously from side to side. Mingyu woke up with a jerk when he sensed Soonyoung’s presence, trying to rub sleep out of his eyes.

“Hi, hyung.” He waved drowsily.

“Hey. Still up?” Soonyoung smiled, idly patting Mingyu’s hair on his way of getting a glass of water. “Why are you studying out here?”

Mingyu seemed to think before answering.

“…My desk light broke.”

Soonyoung nodded, not giving it much thought until the entire weekend passed by and he realized that Mingyu’s desk light worked perfectly fine.

Mingyu had just been waiting for him that night. He just knew that Soonyoung didn’t like coming home from work to a dark, silent apartment, and Kim Mingyu had—

“You don’t know how important that presentation was for me. You really saved my life.”

Soonyoung blinked, seeing Dahee’s blushing face and coming back to reality.

“I wouldn’t have been able to get through it without you.”

Right. The presentation. Shoving Mingyu out of his mind was becoming more and more of a strenuous task.

“You’re giving me too much credit here, Dahee-ssi.” He chuckled, feeling sheepish at Dahee’s fussing. “I know Manager Kang can be pressuring and it really wasn’t a big deal…”

“It _was_ a big deal!” Dahee exclaimed much too loudly, unintentionally silencing her co-worker. Glowing red, she added hastily, “I, I’d really love to treat you to dinner to say thanks.”

Soonyoung stilled, slightly taken aback. He’d always known that Dahee was interested in him, but they’d never gotten close enough to become something more than just co-workers assigned to the same floor, same department. Truthfully, Soonyoung would be lying if he said he didn’t pretend to be oblivious all the time, playing dumb every time Dahee dropped a hint. It wasn’t that Soonyoung didn’t like her—Dahee was pretty. She was nice, had a smile that could put anyone at ease, and… she liked him. 

“How does tonight sound?”

Unfortunately, she’d picked the wrong day.

“…Dahee-ssi, I’m really sorry.” Soonyoung replied, a look of apology gracing his features. “I, uh, already have plans for tonight.”

Dahee’s face fell visibly. Seeing her so crestfallen, Soonyoung almost took back what he said when her lips curved into a disappointed smile.

“I’d thought so.”

With that Dahee trudged back to her cubicle, leaving Soonyoung to stare after her.

She’d thought…what? What did she think?

Soonyoung blanched. Even though there was no way Dahee knew what Soonyoung was going through, both heat and chill crawled up his skin again, distracting him from trying to clear up any misunderstanding.

This had nothing to do with Mingyu. Soonyoung gulped, turning on the computer monitor and facing the blinking screen. Okay, technically, it _was_ because of Mingyu, he had _plans_ with Mingyu. But it wasn’t _because_ of him, not in a way that was hindering him from seeing other people. Other people that could possibly bud a close relationship, and perhaps develop into something romantic—

Soonyoung’s train of thoughts immediately pulled on an emergency break.

Because that couldn’t be it. He must have some other reason. He just… He hadn’t spent time with Mingyu lately.

Yes. That was why Soonyoung was feeling strange around him lately, and maybe he felt like they were drifting apart. Being in senior year, Mingyu was super busy, preparing for college entrance exams. Suneung was just right around the corner, and the nineteen year old was exhausted, enslaved to a cycle of school, library, home, and infinite repeat.

Ever since Mingyu switched schools in junior year, he’d begun to focus in school. He quit smoking, stopped getting off track on the way home, and the number of occasional fights ceased to an absolute zero. Mingyu spent his time at cram hakwons instead, behaving like every other suffering senior high school student in South Korea. And while Soonyoung first couldn’t believe that the high-end hakwons took Mingyu in despite his disastrous academic history, he’d also forgotten that Mingyu had friends like Seungkwan and Seokmin who could bend the rules and flex around the tutors to squeeze him in with their good-natured demeanours. Soonyoung had paid them thanks with high class hanwoo, ignoring Mingyu who’d crossed his arms and muttered disapprovingly about Soonyoung spending money for no reason while the other two boys cheered excitedly over grilled beef.

It was hard to see Mingyu around anymore. Other than during early mornings when both of them were getting ready to go to school and work respectively, it was a rare occasion to bump into each other, even rarer to have dinner together.

So when Mingyu had told him that hakwon was closed that evening and asked what they were going to have for dinner, Soonyoung stopped in the middle of locking the front doors and said,

“Pizza or jjajangmyun? Your call.”

Mingyu looked up from his phone and thoughtfully chewed on his lower lip. Soonyoung turned back to the lock, almost dropping his keys when Mingyu’s chin nestled over his head.

“That’s hard. I can’t decide.”

With every syllable, he could feel Mingyu’s adam’s apple rise up and down, resounding against the back of his head. There was that familiar heat flash, accompanied by the cool scent of Mingyu’s cologne again. He was clearly overreacting. Hypersensitive, even. It was probably the flu. Mingyu did this all the time.

“I’ll text you?”

Soonyoung simply nodded, stepping away from being a human chin-rest as he pressed the elevator button.

Skinship had always been a natural thing between them. If Mingyu was laid out haphazardly over the couch, Soonyoung would just lift the upper half of Mingyu’s body and drape him over his lap as he cuddled into the cushion. If Soonyoung took up the sink brushing his teeth, Mingyu had a habit of trudging into the washroom and digging his chin into the nape of Soonyoung’s collars while reaching for his own toothbrush.

This wasn’t supposed to be any different.

Engrossed back to texting his friends again, Mingyu started snickering, going on about some video Seokmin had sent through the chat. Not that Soonyoung was listening. He didn’t remember looking at Mingyu directly in the eyes after the ride down.

His phone vibrated at that moment, and Soonyoung tore his gaze away from the computer screen. The reflection of Mingyu’s name in his eyes vanished for a second, shortly appearing again when his phone flashed with a Kakao text. Either timing was a bitch or Soonyoung was just spending way too much time thinking about Kim Mingyu.

 **_Mingyu_ **  
_hyung, i’ll stop by mr. pizza before i head home_  
_pepperoni, bacon, green peppers, olives, absolutely no mushrooms… and coke, rite_  
_but pls don’t kick my ass if they only have pepsi_

Soonyoung softly groaned into his palms, a huge part of it sounding more like an exasperated whimper. He needed get over himself. Of course Mingyu would know what he liked by heart—they lived together for ten goddamn years for fuck’s sakes. It was nothing.

It should be nothing. There shouldn’t be any meaning behind it.

Soonyoung felt sick. Like he’d been running for too long.

His heart raced.

 

◆

 

“…So, where do you want to go?”

Mingyu looked up from taking a bite out of his pizza, sitting on the opposite side of Soonyoung with his legs crossed. It finally felt like home, both of them changed into comfortable clothing and taking up the living room floor. An upbeat song from a music program on TV played softly in the background.

“Huh?”

Mingyu muffled through a full mouth, as Soonyoung leaned back against the sofa and threw a napkin over the pizza box. His hair was still wet from the shower, but the air was far too cozy to make him get up and grab a towel. With the corner of his mouth smeared in tomato sauce, Mingyu semi-automatically caught the napkin but swiped his tongue to lick the sauce off lips.

“University, I mean. You seem to be studying really hard these days.” Soonyoung elaborated, chewing on the end of the slice he’d been trying to finish forever. Not that he could taste anything ever since he’d been feeling so… sick.

“Oh, yeah.” Mingyu chuckled, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. “It’s a bit out of my league…” He paused, meeting Soonyoung’s eyes and breaking out into a shy laugh. Soonyoung took another bite of his pizza, trying not to focus too much on how nicely Mingyu’s laugh rolled off his lips to warm his insides with familiarity.

“Ah, who am I kidding. It’s way out of my league, but I’m trying.”

“Which one is it?” Soonyoung’s face lit up, inspecting the younger’s expression for any hints. Mingyu was more brazen than bashful, and it wasn’t common to see him like this.  “Oh c’mon.” Soonyoung urged, “The last time I checked Seungkwan wasn’t talking to you ‘cause you scored higher than him on the mock exam.”

Mingyu still looked hesitant to tell him, and curiosity drew Soonyoung to rock himself forwards.

“Hanyang University?”

A tentative shake of the head.

“Okay, Sogang?”

Another shake. Soonyoung’s lips curved further up in excitement, revealing his two front teeth.

“…Yonsei?”

Mingyu snickered, clearly amused at how prestigious the schools were getting on Soonyoung’s list.

“That’s your school, hyung. I can’t go there.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Soonyoung frowned, sounding overly indignant that Mingyu cracked up again. He went on heatedly, watching Mingyu refill his glass with coke. “You know how school names are overrated, you’d make it no problem—”

“I’m hoping to get into SNU.”

Soonyoung blinked.

“SNU? Seoul National University?”

Mingyu roughly ran his fingers through his hair, a barely noticeable blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Fucking absurd, I know.”

“No, that’s not what—”

Mingyu downed his drink in one shot.

“I did my research.” He interrupted, “Turns out SNU’s the only university that’s ranked higher than Yonsei.”

He grinned playfully when Soonyoung took a break to cock a brow at him. Okay, that was great and all, but—

“Besides,” Mingyu wasn’t done, filling his empty cup again and sliding it towards the older male. “I don’t need you to see me as hoobae either.”

Soonyoung’s mind went blank. Did Mingyu just…?

Mingyu reached over and clanked his drink against Soonyoung’s glass.

“Wish me luck, hyung.”

It was so casual that Soonyoung might have responded with an instinctive ‘okay’. If he wasn’t so much bothered by that last statement, etching sharply onto his mind somewhere deep and sensitive. He stared at Mingyu, who looked as though he was completely entranced by the idol group dancing on stage. And Soonyoung would’ve believed it, passed his remark as a stupid joke, if the tip of Mingyu’s ears weren’t so obviously glowing bright red.

Soonyoung almost brought the glass of coke and pressed it against his flaming cheeks. He felt sick… no, it was more like he felt ticklish at places where he couldn’t reach.

His toes near the pizza box curled.

 

◆◈◆

 

“Mingyu-ya, can’t you just think of this as helping out a dear hyung?”

Shrugging Junhui off was easy. Withstanding his weight when he came back crashing against his side to cling onto his arm, now that was fucking hard. And painful. Mingyu shot Junhui an annoyed glance, trying to make it across campus despite the fact that an entire sixty-six kilograms of body mass was dragging him back.

“Hm, let me think.” He stopped, making Junhui halt in his tracks and look up at him with hopeful, sparkling eyes. “Are you dear to me? Easy. No.”

Wonwoo snorted from the side, not even bothering to glance up from his textbook.

“What the fuck, why so rude.” Junhui huffed, straightening up and sucking air into his cheeks. “I can technically just _make_ you to do it, I’m your sunbae.”

“That’s hierarchical harassment.”

Wonwoo piped up, and Mingyu gladly made a haughty gesture in direction of Wonwoo—an _actual_ dear sunbae—for Junhui to see, hoping it was the most obnoxious _ha, there you go_ he could muster.

Junhui snapped his mouth shut, something only Wonwoo could efficiently do, keeping his face busy with a childish pout.

“Fine. But do know that it’s your fault if Professor Lee fails me and I get deported back to China—” He sharply held up a hand before Mingyu could interject, “— _just_ because you refused to spend a day with the prettiest girls from Ewha University.”

“You’re not going to get deported just because you fail a class.” Mingyu rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the older male’s look of a kicked puppy when he muttered dejectedly,

“My mother thinks otherwise.”

Mingyu groaned internally. The deal was that Yoon Jeonghan, their faculty head and T.A for Lee’s Financial Management class, promised a leeway for Junhui to save his ass if he could provide him a decent candidate for the 5:5 blind date, arranged with some Ewha girls that will save _his_ ass—in which Mingyu chose not to delve into. They were short on one guy on their side, and apparently there weren’t many available first year Business majors in Seoul National University.

Frankly, Mingyu had been trying to avoid these stupid set-up dates that have established itself as a university subculture ever since he’d stepped onto the campus grounds. But,

“My grade… My credit… My future…”

Wen Junhui couldn’t have been more annoying.

“What about Wonwoo hyung?”

Mingyu suggested, making two heads snap towards him—one, from his book through his black-rimmed glasses, and the other, eyes wide and frantic under a brush of brown bangs. Blatantly disregarding Junhui’s silent freakout, Mingyu turned towards Wonwoo.

“Hyung, do you mind?”

Wonwoo seemed to consider this for a slow second (he was usually a bit behind at everything except for reading ahead of class), closing his book and vainly scratching his neck.

“It’s just hanging out for a day, isn’t it?”

He stole a cautious glance at Junhui, a dash of warm pink flitting across his cheekbones when he found Junhui staring back. Mingyu rolled his eyes. Wonwoo cleared his throat.

“I guess I could help, if you really need someone to fill a spot…”

“You can’t go.” Junhui cut him off.

“I can’t?” Wonwoo blinked.

“No.” Junhui emphasized again as he glared daggers at the first year masking innocence.

It took a moment for Wonwoo to process this, and Mingyu cheered silently when the next thing that came out of his mouth was a slightly strained,

“Why not?”

Junhui’s face flushed deep red.

“Well anyways, I gotta go.” Mingyu edged in cheerfully, trying refrain himself from bursting out laughing. “I have a date.”

Junhui’s eyebrows soared, his half-mortified and half-angry expression wavering momentarily with a look of surprise. Even Wonwoo reacted to this quickly enough, his crossed arms coming undone as he slipped an incredulous,

“A date?”

“Wait, wait.” Junhui’s arms slashed the air horizontally as if to halt time. “You? A _date?_ So you’re finally seeing someone?”

Mingyu grinned.

“It’s a figure of speech, hyung.”

The scowl re-settled ungraciously over Junhui’s brow. Wonwoo scoffed, as if to have expected as much, his attention back on Junhui and posture demanding. Mingyu clamped his hand down on Wonwoo’s shoulder, giving him a goodbye tap before taking off.

“But seriously. Wonwoo hyung’s smart, tall, and good-looking—he’s everything Jeonghan sunbae’s looking for!”

He feigned an angelic smile. As Mingyu brushed past them, he added, “Unless of course, _you_ don’t think so.”

Wonwoo’s shoulders sunk visibly, his brows squirming under the rims of his glasses. Junhui dropped his jaws. Wheeled around to face Mingyu, his nostrils flaring as he mouthed,

‘You’re a fucking asshole.’

Mingyu shot him a thumbs up.

‘You’re welcome.’

He’d thank him later.

 

◆

 

It was sort of a set thing. Kim Mingyu not dating. It was ground knowledge about him among his faculty, not that anybody knew why. They _assumed_ that Mingyu had someone he liked for a long time—supposedly not everyone spent the better half of their day staring into their phones with a goofy grin plastered across their mouths—not that Mingyu had ever acknowledged this.

He didn’t try to correct them either though. So really, Junhui had it coming.

Mingyu crossed the campus towards the bus stop, his pace getting quicker and impatient with each step. The campus was serene and pretty under a sunny sky. Freshly mown grass, people’s hair, and pages of books blew softly from the May breeze. Although to Mingyu, the sun was merely a distraction.

He peered down at his phone, scrunching up his eyes when the glare prevented him from being able to see anything. He glimpsed at his watch. He didn’t want to be late. Although, there was nothing to be late for—his heart just pressed him to rush, wanting to see Soonyoung.

Fast.

How many days has it been since he last saw him? Mingyu wasn’t sure, but it was definitely more than he could stand. He took a turn and diverted from the concrete path. Cut across the grass patches and zigzagged around the stone statues, arriving at the bus stop an entire six minutes before it arrived.

Mingyu jumped off the bus, his long legs hurrying towards their apartment. He ran up the front steps of the building and pressed the up button on the elevator. Watched the numbers decrease one by one, ever so slowly, until his countdown stopped abruptly. There was something Soonyoung had asked of him to do every Fridays—check mail. Shoot. Mingyu grimaced and skipped back to the entrance, clumsily slotting the key into their box and taking out its contents. By the time he walked back to the elevator, it was already up elsewhere and responding to someone else’s call. Mingyu pressed the button again, flapping the front of his shirt to cool the sheet of sweat that had formed over his body. The hall bounced with the nervous tapping of his feet against the floor.

He’d been so eager to get home. His slight breathlessness proved that. So when the elevator doors slid open to spit him out on his floor, Mingyu didn’t expect to hesitate in front of the door. His heart was pounding erratically fast.

It was just Soonyoung hyung. Back from a business trip. Had he run that fast? He didn’t think so.

It was just Kwon Soonyoung doing his usual job.

Mingyu threw the door wide open, his shoulders slumping at the sight of the still, unlit entrance looking just the way it did when he left this morning. Mingyu tossed the mail onto the floor, not even bothering to turn on the lights. He stepped inside and headed towards the bathroom. Stared at the counter top and the void of Soonyoung’s presence.

Restlessness at its peak, Mingyu reeled around and came back out of the house. He yanked his phone out, sliding his finger across the lock screen. Conveniently, it had been timed out over Soonyoung’s Kakao chat. Mingyu groaned out loud in the hallway, waiting for the elevator to come back up—why weren’t people letting him ride the fucking thing today?

He was busy construing a text message to Soonyoung when the elevator dinged.

“Mingyu?”

Mingyu’s fingers stopped at the voice calling his name. His head whipped up, the tension coming loose when he saw Soonyoung standing in front of him. Eyes wide in wonder. Mouth open in surprise. Prettier than the last time he saw him.

“How did you know I was just coming up?”

Soonyoung continued to gape, clutching a luggage in one hand.

Mingyu couldn’t help the transparent smile that bloomed onto his lips. He took Soonyoung’s luggage and dragged it out of the elevator, laughing and pulling Soonyoung out by the wrist when the older male remained standing in amazement.

“Hi, hyung.” Mingyu shrugged, “Destiny, I guess.”

 

◆

 

“Aren’t you tired?” Mingyu cocked his head, leaning against the fridge as Soonyoung opened up the freezer to set the ice cream cake inside. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Mingyu knew he was saying one thing, and that the amusement and anticipation laced over his voice was saying another. Freshly showered and changed into sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, Soonyoung looked so soft and cushiony. Ready to melt into his comfy bed. But he insisted they celebrate, refusing to acknowledge the fatigue that cloaked over his languid form.

“How long did it take you to get here from Busan?” Mingyu asked, moving aside as Soonyoung opened the fridge and examined the insides.

“About five hours.” Soonyoung replied after a thought. “And a half. I had to drop Dahee off at her house.”

Most of the side dishes that he had prepared before leave were almost done, piled neatly on top of each other. A pack of leftover fried chicken and jokbal rested in front of the containers, and Mingyu reached for it quickly, dumping it in the garbage and muttering something about them being two weeks old. Soonyoung laughed, reaching up and ruffling Mingyu’s hair. His coarse, sweat-dry locks bristled between Soonyoung’s fingers, the warm, fuzzy feeling travelling right down the center of his frame and straight into his heart. He could never get used to the feeling.

“Holy shit. Five hours?”

Mingyu frowned, following Soonyoung into his room as the older male started to unzip his luggage. He was obviously worn out from driving long hours, draping most of his clothes over his bed rather than hanging them up or folding them aside. Soonyoung grabbed his bathroom kit and tottered towards the bathroom. Mingyu followed.

“Yeah.” Soonyoung said, placing his toothbrush back into the cup next to Mingyu’s. Soonyoung’s razor, toner, and lotion found their places one by one, back on top of the bare counter. “We tried to leave early, but rush hour.”

“Hyung, you should get some rest.” Mingyu walked over from the doorframe, taking Soonyoung’s items and placing them in the cabinet behind the mirror. “We can celebrate tomorrow… We don’t even have to celebrate at all. It’s not a big deal.”

When he closed the cabinet, he found Soonyoung’s eyes chasing his through the mirror.

“I _want_ to, Mingyu.” Soonyoung’s tone picked up a decibel, “Because it _is_ a big deal.” He grinned so widely that for a second, Mingyu would’ve believed that he wasn’t so tired.

Heading back out, Soonyoung hummed, “You become an adult only once in your lifetime, you know.”

A short pause followed, broken when Soonyoung mumbled faintly,

“…Or at least you think you do.”

Mingyu had ‘officially’ become an adult on coming-of-age day this year. Having missed it by a week, Soonyoung was trying to make it up to him by holding a small celebration between just the two of them, with the whole ice cream cake and all.

Mingyu followed Soonyoung back out, feeling like an overgrown puppy trailing behind his owner everywhere he went. Soonyoung was already in the kitchen, busying himself to prepare dinner. He leaned against the wall, watching the twenty-nine year old shuffle around back and forth. Tried to ignore how huggable Soonyoung looked, buried under his sweater as his sleeves hung over the length of his arms. Ignore how his heart rattled noisily just by realizing that Soonyoung now knew he was _older_. Really, _really_ tried to ignore how hard Soonyoung was trying to maintain the invisible gap between them.

As if to have sensed Mingyu’s eyes trained on him, Soonyoung popped his head out from behind the fridge doors, holding a pack of red peppers in his hands.

“Oh, right. I forgot to say.” Soonyoung beamed at him, his pointy eyes almost disappearing from the smile. “Congratulations on becoming an adult, Kim Mingyu.”

Mingyu wished his heart would just burst. Maybe that way this could all end. It’d been so long already, and he really didn’t think it would stop in any other way.

“Hyung, how about I cook tonight?”

He chose to say—over other words that threatened to jump out of his throat—walking over and examining the ingredients over Soonyoung’s shoulder. Soonyoung’s hair smelled of their shampoo, clouding his mind with lavender and lemon. Mingyu didn’t think twice about taking Soonyoung’s hood and hastily putting it over the brunet’s head. Thankfully Soonyoung didn’t seem to mind, just drawing it slightly back so that it revealed his eyes. He crinkled his nose skeptically, pulling the strings of his hood and tying it up into a ribbon.

“You? Cook?”

“Hey, how do you think I survived while you were gone?”

Mingyu forced himself to look away, trying to sound defensive. He stole the cutting board from the kitchen’s usual owner, setting it front of him and reaching for the onions that Soonyoung had freshly washed and peeled.

Soonyoung crossed his arms, his lips threatening to curl in amusement. 

“Uh, let me see. Rice cooker, my pre-made banchan and takeout?”

Mingyu made a face. “I can only go past a few days eating the same thing,” He hastily spat out when Soonyoung jabbed him in the ribs, “Although, the stir fried anchovy and pickled cucumbers were your best work thus far.”

Soonyoung snorted, throwing his yellow polka-dotted apron towards Mingyu and perching himself on top of the counter. For the first twenty minutes Soonyoung absorbed the role of a judge on Master Chef Korea—nipping at the way Mingyu gripped the kitchen knife and calling him contestant Kim—but as the pot boiled of pork, kimchi, tofu, and various spices, he quieted down, the swinging of his legs also ceasing to a stop. The smell of kimchijjigae wafted deliciously in the air, accompanied by the rhythmical noise of Mingyu’s knife hitting against the cutting board.

“This is totally unfair.” Soonyoung spoke up after a while, huffing as he watched Mingyu chopping the green onions in small—but not too small—consistent sizes. He hopped off the counter, trudging over to the dining table and plopping down. “It took me forever to become my own independent person in the kitchen and loads of pep talks to ditch Naver and my measuring cups, but for you it just comes naturally?”

“Come on, you weren’t that bad.” Mingyu laughed, brushing chopped onions into the bubbling pot. “…If we ignore that time you decided to get creative and dumped a whole can of pupae in our ramyun.”

“Shut up.” Came Soonyoung’s gruff voice, and Mingyu could almost _hear_ his pout. He probably had his cheeks squished between his fists, elbows resting on the table. “You have no idea how desperately I tried to fish a compliment out of you. Took three stressful years. _Three_.”

Smiling at Soonyoung’s half-resentful grumbles— _you were a pain in the ass, what does a twelve year old know about ddeokbokki being too bland?!_ —Mingyu brought the pot of kimchijjigae and set it on top of the table. Soonyoung snapped his mouth shut, merely staring at the mouth-watering sight as Mingyu continued to set other side dishes and bowls of rice on the table. He sat down, forgetting about the discomfort of the tight apron that usually fit snugly on the older male, beckoning Soonyoung to pick up his spoon. His stomach coiled anxiously as Soonyoung took a spoonful of the spicy soup. And another spoonful.

“So unfair.”

Soonyoung whispered. Biting down a grin, Mingyu took a sip.

It was bland. Could’ve used another entire scoop of red pepper paste. But Kwon Soonyoung, the adult, couldn’t handle spicy food. Mingyu whisked his chopsticks for a piece of pork and placed it in Soonyoung’s bowl. Held back the urge to swipe his thumb over the crack of Soonyoung’s mouth as the elder stuffed his mouth.

“So unfair!”

Soonyoung cried out again. Mingyu’s hand lingered in the air before it found its way to settle on an innocent glass of water. The kimchijjigae tasted more bitter than anything.

“You have no idea.”

 

◆

 

Mingyu had sort of forgotten about the whole coming-of-age tradition. All he had done—or more like was summoned by Seokmin and Seungkwan—to note the occasion was having cheap samgyubsal inside the plastic tarp-walled street stalls in front of their school, losing his voice at karaoke at three in the morning, and waking up feeling like someone had hammered his head all night long while he was asleep.

So when Soonyoung got up during dinner and cluttered the table with bottles of soju and beer, Mingyu was completely unprepared.

“Perfume is boring.” Soonyoung had grinned, his prominent cheeks flushed from the warmth of the meal. “What other scent suits an average Korean male better than soju?”

Neither did he expect for Soonyoung to take out a single rose and slide it across the table, boisterously clanking their shot glasses together and raising his voice to hide the awkward embarrassment.

He was absolutely unprepared. His insides looped into a nervous knot, and Mingyu couldn’t tell whether he was eating or just shoving food inside his mouth out of compulsory reflex. It was Soonyoung’s fault really, reminding him of what people received on coming-of-age day—a rose, perfume and… a kiss.

Mingyu’s eyes travelled down the arc of Soonyoung’s nose to latch onto his shiny lips that curved and flexed every time he spoke. He was babbling about something work-related, already tipsy—‘diluting’ soju with beer had clearly been a mistake for someone with such a low alcohol tolerance—but Mingyu wasn’t listening.

He couldn’t.

Soonyoung was right in front of him, within in arm’s reach, looking visibly lax and happy. His bangs were mildly damp from sweat, effortlessly scattered above his brow. Eyes droopy and smiling a lot more than usual.

And his lips. They were slightly puffy and bright red, probably from the hot spices.

Mingyu tried to focus on something else, anything else. Maybe he’d actually try to listen, instead of giving out spaced-out responses that were obviously the wrong ones… at least according to the occasional pouts that settled on Soonyoung squirming mouth.

For as long as he could remember, Mingyu felt like all of his senses have been reset at some point in his life without his will. Re-activated to be sharpened towards Soonyoung and Kwon Soonyoung only.

“Oh, crap!”

Beginning to lose hand-eye coordination, Soonyoung knocked his glass over and spilled his drink. Stared down at the small soju puddle he made, before looking up to lock eyes with him and bursting into a fit of giggles. He stomped his feet under the table like it was the funniest thing in the world,

“Mingyu, look what I did!”

It made Mingyu’s heart float dangerously out of place. Made it rock against his lungs, pressing for a release of air and trying to open that firmly shut chest of his feelings.

“What a waste,” Said Soonyoung, swiping his finger across the spilled alcohol and bring it to his mouth. He sucked on it diligently. “It’s still yummy, though.”

The fact that it was his first time seeing Soonyoung totally drunk, didn’t help his situation much either.

“Wanna try too?” Soonyoung took the same finger and dipped into the pool once more, holding it before Mingyu’s lips. “Here, try it.”

Soonyoung had to be put to bed. Immediately.

Tiredness tended to inebriate people at a much quicker pace. Made them vulnerable. Mingyu, on the other hand, had his liver brined in alcohol since frosh week, and soju was beginning to taste like mineral water. He wrapped his hand around Soonyoung’s finger, holding onto it as he made his way around the table. Soonyoung’s eyes followed, his face sliding under his hood as he burrowed into the chair, knowing what Mingyu was about to say.

“Hyung, it’s getting pretty late.” Still holding onto Soonyoung’s finger, Mingyu tugged gently, “Call it a night and we can continue celebrating in the morning?”

“But I want to talk.” Soonyoung didn’t budge. He felt heavy, as if he’d weighed down all of his energy and had none left in his body. Mingyu pulled Soonyoung up, who crashed into his chest with an intoxicated sense of control.

“I want to catch up with you. How is everything? How’s university? Making new friends? Anyone interesting?” The words slipped slovenly out of Soonyoung’s mouth. “…Anyone you’re seeing?”

Mingyu’s feet stopped shuffling. He turned, to find half of Soonyoung’s face covered under his hoodie. Those goddamn lips were the only thing he could see.

“…No.”

He replied, facing forth and dragging Soonyoung by the arm again. Soonyoung fell silent. Mingyu opened the door to Soonyoung’s room, sighing when he saw the clothes draped haphazardly all over the bed. He made his way towards his own room, his supporting arm aching and threatening to fall off his shoulders. At the foot of his bed, Mingyu released his grip. It was too quiet. Soonyoung was too quiet. Mingyu couldn’t make out his face from his angle.

“You can sleep on my bed for tonight, hyung. I’ll sleep out on the couch…”

“It’s not my first time.” Soonyoung suddenly spoke. The mattress lurched softly as he slid down. “Sleeping on your bed.” It was a faint mumble, as though Soonyoung was talking to himself more than to Mingyu. “I slept here… that night.”

Silence had never been this loud before.

Mingyu stared, everything suddenly stopping cold. Not one of them had ever dared to bring it up. It was something they’d mutually agreed upon, without discussion, yet here Soonyoung was—blurring the lines. The rational part of his brain was telling him that it was the alcohol talking, not Soonyoung. The rest of his brain screamed that he didn’t care. He wanted to see Soonyoung’s face.

Mingyu levelled down, shifting his weight onto one knee on the floor. He looked up, but the only thing he could see was Soonyoung’s lips again, slightly apart and huffing air steadily. He pulled the strings of Soonyoung’s hoodie loose. Drew the hood back entirely. Held his breath.

The look in Soonyoung’s eyes was painfully familiar. It resembled his _own_.

He leaned in closer. Slowly, carefully. Soonyoung’s face was as red as his lips. He could feel the heat radiating off of him, and for a second Mingyu wondered if Soonyoung was sick. When they were only inches apart, the scent of lavender and lemon mingled together to daze him in a way that no strong alcohol could ever do.

Mingyu closed his eyes. Breathed in the smell of Soonyoung’s hair. Opened his eyes.

They were _so_ close.

“Hyung. Can you leave your toothbrush here the next time you go on a business trip?”

Soonyoung looked adorably confused.

“Just having my toothbrush in the washroom made your absence so real.”

Soonyoung’s laugh ghosted over his cheekbones.

“I missed you so much.”

Soonyoung stopped laughing.

Fuck. He’d crossed the line.

Thousands of different words flooded through his mind all at once. He fucked up. Again. No greatest rhetorician of all times could fix this. Mingyu dragged his bottom lip under his teeth, biting it down incase he might say anything stupider.

It was then that Soonyoung cupped his face, his thumb freeing his lower lip from pain. All words, all thoughts, disappeared from his mind as the pad of his thumb gently traced over his jaws. He shut his eyes when Soonyoung slowly closed the distance between them, able to feel the fuzz from the tip of Soonyoung’s nose. When they kissed, Mingyu realized that Soonyoung’s lips were warmer and softer than anything he had ever imagined it to be like.

It was more. It was indescribable.

Soonyoung’s mouth was unbearably hot.

 

◆

 

Soonyoung blinked. Blinked again, slowly this time. His surroundings remained unchanged. Maybe if he shut his eyes long enough, everything would turn into a dream and he would be able to wake up from it.

When his eyes fluttered open, Soonyoung was still lying on Mingyu’s bed. Curled up under Mingyu’s sheets and staring at the ceiling of Mingyu’s room. He whipped his head from side to side. He was alone. Which meant Mingyu was probably sleeping out on the couch.

Shit. Shit. _Shit._ Soonyoung hissed under his breath, trying to shove away the memories that began to engulf him from all directions. If it wasn’t a dream, then Soonyoung didn’t like the elusive feeling, crawling up from the pit of his stomach. Didn’t like the way his mind unconsciously zoomed ahead to reach the end—and _fuck._

There was a loud hick, the sound of his breath getting sucked back into his throat.

Unfortunately, Soonyoung wasn’t the type to have his memory wiped out no matter how shitfaced he got the night before. It would be convenient at times, so that he could just have his share of a panic attack and get it over with, instead of carrying a lifetime of mortification and an urge to stab himself in the eye.

But he just wasn’t that lucky of a guy. In high school, Soonyoung got drunk off two cans of beer and forbade his friends to eat the fried chicken they ordered, crying Kkokko’s name and burying four pieces of chicken in their backyard. Half a year ago, Soonyoung and Dahee were the last ones remaining at a hweshik, and his drunk ego tried to mend their terribly awkward relationship by enthusiastically telling her all about how he felt for a certain boy at home (It worked, but that was beyond the point).

However horrifying, Soonyoung remembered everything.

And last night, he kissed Mingyu.

Soonyoung curled his fists into a ball and pressed them firmly against his eyes. It only made the panorama of last night’s events flash clearer before his eyes, restoring the vague images with vivid colour. With heated touches. The taste of Mingyu’s wet lips.

It was a mistake. Obviously.

…It had to be. He promised himself. To be an adult. No matter how much he sucked at it, he’d tried so hard to be one. To keep himself together.

_I missed you so much._

Yet a second of Mingyu’s honesty, and all of his efforts had pathetically crumbled down to go to waste. Completely nullified his trip to Busan, something he had willingly volunteered for, hoping that distancing himself away from Mingyu might bring his runaway sanity back home.

It was supposed to be an escape. From coming home late after work, flinging his shoes off with unnecessary force at the bare threshold where Mingyu’s shoes used to be. From the feeling of his guts shrivelling in anxiety, wondering what Mingyu might be doing out with friends, at the campus, or perhaps at a party—trying to overlook that it was _who_ he might be with, that tugged his heart so uncomfortably underneath his tie.

Busan, so to say, was a blur.

A mixed blur of work, clear sky, the blue ocean… and Mingyu.

Ironically, without Mingyu next to him, it was easier to give into temptation. Probably because he had a sense of relief there wasn’t anyone around to catch his strange mannerisms like a hawk. Whenever Mingyu asked worriedly if he was sick and slipped a hand onto his forehead, Soonyoung was beginning to find it difficult to keep a straight face—which was already out of control, blazing. He’d rather wished he was sick, but it’d been long since he realized he’d never caught the fever.

So from three hundred and twenty-five kilometers away, he found himself easily consumed by Kim Mingyu, no longer feeling like he was tiptoeing around from the fear of being discovered. He lost count of waking up from daydreams, staring at a paper of scribbled numbers, adding up ages in an attempt of futile persuasion.

It wouldn’t be too bad if both of their ages had the same number at the front, right?

  1. 29.



And yesterday, when the elevator doors opened to reveal Mingyu, Soonyoung knew nothing had changed. He didn’t mean to get drunk, but he may have desperately wanted to borrow inebriation. To silence his heart that didn’t seem to show any signs of shutting up.

Only, it backfired. Muddled between the reality in Seoul and the blur he’d lived in Busan, Soonyoung let himself loose. Stripped off the stupid adult thing. Crashed his mouth against Mingyu’s, the way he did it dozens of times in his dreams.

And now it was time to pick it up again. Wear the damn thing over his form and squeeze in his limbs that refused to fit. Talk, eat, and smile over the collars that tightened around his throat and suffocated him of honesty. Soonyoung released the pressure over his eyes. The panorama faded out with a fizzing burn, replacing his view with the plain white surface of the ceiling. He got up. Mussed down his hair, and traced his fingers down the goosebumps that rose over his arms. He was going to be sick. His stomach churned at the thought of having to conjure up lies. His feet felt like there were anchors attached to his ankles. They had never felt so heavy before.

In the living room, Mingyu was standing next to the couch by the threshold, his back turned towards him. He was in luck.

“Mingyu-ya.”

His voice sounded hideous.

“I had too much to drink last night.” Soonyoung continued hoarsely, “You and I. Both.”

Mingyu didn’t stir.

“I wasn’t myself.”

_It was me._

“It was a mistake.”

_I’d do it again._

“I don’t know what else to say other than sorry.”

_I think I like you, Mingyu._

Anything would’ve been better than the silence that came back to suspend over him. It was terrifying.

Mingyu’s head fell, his shoulders trembling almost unnoticeably.

Regret washed over immediately. Drenched him cold and soaked him to the ends of his toes that Soonyoung shivered with a jerk. He took a step forward, moments away from obliging to the desire of wrapping his arms around Mingyu’s waist. Of digging his forehead into the dip of Mingyu’s broad back, telling him that everything was a lie.

Mingyu suddenly turned around, stopping Soonyoung short in his steps. He was laughing. Chuckling. The corners of his lips flexed upwards into an exaggerated smile, but his eyes were incapable of doing the same. They couldn’t fool anybody, and definitely not Soonyoung. Mingyu faced him entirely, and Soonyoung realized that the younger was holding onto a letter, a small pile of envelopes tucked securely underneath.

Mail, Soonyoung thought stupidly.

“Perfect timing, hyung.” Mingyu chuckled without spirit. It was empty. Hollow. Soonyoung’s gaze dived down to the letter in Mingyu’s hands. The block letters were large enough for him to read it upside down.

Draft notice.

“Mingyu—” Soonyoung gasped, his mouth snapping shut at the expression over Mingyu’s face.

He looked so hurt. Damaged. And even then, Kim Mingyu was so fucking considerate.

“Don’t worry.”

Soonyoung recognized that constrained smile from sometime two years ago.

“It won’t be awkward for too long.”

His heart plummeted to an endless bottom as Mingyu brushed past him into his room.

“I’m enlisting next month.”

 

◆◈◆

 

Unlike the first time they mutually agreed to never speak of it again, the second time was more uncontrolled.

Mingyu wasn’t around. It was up to Soonyoung to deal with the aftermath alone.

And Soonyoung realized many things while Mingyu wasn’t around.

That time could crawl by impossibly slowly. That Mingyu was right about the whole toothbrush thing. That his cooking still sucked. That putting bowls in the upper cabinet was indeed dangerous.

He bought an extra toothbrush and a step stool.

Sometimes Soonyoung spent the night in Mingyu’s room. The first couple of nights were unintentional. Drunk. Then as time ticked—however sluggishly—Soonyoung could find no excuse, going in sober.

It wasn’t Mingyu anymore. It was _him._

The morning of the enlistment had been the first day of summer. Soonyoung thought that was sort of helpful, at least, when he came out of his room wearing sunglasses. Mingyu gave him an odd look before getting in the car—it was way too early and the sun wasn’t even out yet, but Soonyoung chose to ignore it. With a sports cut that exposed all of his handsome forehead, it was cruelly unfair how Mingyu looked so good in a simple black tee and jeans—just so he could leave Soonyoung to suffer for one whole year and nine months.

“I’ll call. You have to answer, okay?” Mingyu nudged him playfully once they’ve reached the entrance of KATC. The sun was rising above the arch inscribed Korean Army Training Center, casting a shadow across Mingyu’s grin. “Even if it’s collect call.”

That wasn’t funny. He wasn’t going to be able to hear Mingyu’s voice whenever he wanted to. Maybe twice a week, if his seniors weren’t such assholes. Zipping his lips into a thin line, Soonyoung nodded. Mingyu cleared his throat and Soonyoung tried, sincerely tried to help Mingyu who wanted to part on a light note,

“Take—” He briefly gnawed on his lip mid-way, “—care.”

Of course Mingyu would catch that subtle hitch in his throat.

“Hyung, are you crying?” Mingyu asked with a hint of amusement, folding his knees in order to level their eyes.

“No,” Forgetting he was hidden behind a pair of dark lens, Soonyoung looked away, resorting to glare at the gravel under their feet. “It’s you who’s going, not me.”

He slapped Mingyu’s hands away when the younger reached up for his shades. Mingyu straightened up, eyebrows soaring in disbelief.

“Are you seriously not going to show me your face when I’m going away for two years?”

“You know what I look like.” Soonyoung muttered.

“Yeah, but what if I forget?”

Mingyu whined, in a way that was utterly unacceptable for a soldier-to-be in Soonyoung’s opinion. Nevertheless, Soonyoung almost gave in. Almost.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

A whistle blew in the distance. Soonyoung’s head snapped back up in alarm, accidentally stumbling upon the deep look in Mingyu’s eyes. It was indecipherable.

When Soonyoung didn’t know what to do, his habits tended to take over his body. Mingyu stood still as Soonyoung reached up to ruffle his hair, his short, pointy locks failing to stir between his fingers. Soonyoung cracked a smile, feeling quite dumb and retrieving his hand when Mingyu took a hold of his wrist. His sunglasses slid off his face, the sunrise now bright enough to blind his view.

“You’re a liar, hyung.”

Soonyoung’s eyes grew wide. His stomach flopped. There was a pause, followed by Mingyu’s collected tone.

“Your eyes are this puffy. Are you sure you didn’t cry?”

Soonyoung’s lungs started to function again, a contradictive whirl of relief and hopelessness raving inside him like a blizzard. Embarrassment surfaced onto his face shortly after, and Soonyoung hastily aimed for his sunglasses in Mingyu’s free hand. Nearly hiccupped when Mingyu pulled him in by the wrist, wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.

“God, what’s our Soonie hyung gonna do without Mingyu?”

Mingyu’s breath tickled his ears.

“Get over yourself, they were tears of happiness.” Soonyoung rambled, his jaws edging between Mingyu’s neck and shoulder. Heat flushed to every inch of his body. “Just think of half the dishwashing. Half the laundry. Half the grocery shopping—”

“Yeah, yeah.” Mingyu released him, tucking Soonyoung’s sunglasses on the neck of his shirt. “Don’t get too comfortable without me.”

Irrational chill crept under his skin as Mingyu’s touch slipped away. He’d lied again. Something about Kim Mingyu drove his brain, his tongue, and his instincts to act automatically on their own. Soonyoung inhaled quickly, reached out to tug the hem of Mingyu’s shirt, to tell him that wasn’t what he really meant. But the whistle blew again before he had the chance, in two curt trills this time, and just like that—with a wave of his hand—Mingyu was gone.

And here he was now.

A year later, sitting in a small café and staring out the window for… maybe hours now, he’d lost track. In his view outstretched nothing but the ribbon of a sandy road, barely defined by the flat plains and autumn-tinting trees on either side. He felt jittery. He was shaking his legs. Biting his nails. The beads of condensation on his glass of ice coffee narrated how long it had been sitting on the wooden table, untouched. Soonyoung broke his gaze away from the road when he heard muted laughter, coming from the table next to him. Around sat a family of four; a father, a mother, a sister, and their soldier son and brother—the reason why they were spending a precious Saturday morning at a petite café by the countryside.

Soonyoung turned his attention back to the window, his heart stopping momentarily when he saw a cloud of dust storming up from the end of the road, blurring its already chalky surroundings. The dot the size of his nail eventually grew large enough to be recognized as a bus, and Soonyoung sat up, his pulse beating against his eardrums—loud enough to match the roaring engine of the vehicle. He bolted up as soon as the bus stopped to drop off a tall figure in a camouflage uniform. The bells chimed above his head as he exited the coffee shop and ran.

“Hyung!”

Mingyu’s deep voice reached him from the distance, and Soonyoung’s lips stretched into a wide smile as Mingyu waved his arms over his head. It felt good, to hear his voice ring so clearly, without the crackling of the cheap military line or his hot cell pressed up against his ears. He practically crashed into the younger male, panting rushed breaths that sounded a lot like laughter.

“It’s been so long, hyung.” Mingyu took a step back, scanning Soonyoung from head to toe. His eyes gleamed. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

Soonyoung stared back, his shoulders rising up and down with every heave of his breath. Mingyu changed. He changed a lot. His hair wasn’t as short as the day he enlisted, but his dark locks graced his forehead just below the hairline. He’d tanned more. Slimmed down, yet looked firmer with a noticeable built to his muscles. But most of all, there was something about his atmosphere that came about differently.

Soonyoung couldn’t place a finger on what it was.

“You’ve… changed.” He exhaled. Mingyu cocked a brow.

“In a good way? Or bad?”

“Good.” His answer came out way too quickly. Mingyu beamed, strutting out his chest and posing goofily.

“Well, you know what they say.” He remarked with a teasing smirk, revealing his pointy canines. “You become a real man in the military.”

 _Oh._ That was it.

Soonyoung gulped, feeling nauseous as if he was on a rollercoaster rocking over a peak, seconds before accelerating down a steep slope.

Mingyu felt so grown up. Lost the boyish flicker that used to make him look like a giant puppy.

He was no longer the boy Soonyoung had to take care of.

“Come _on_ , hyung. I’m only on vacation.” Mingyu snatched Soonyoung by the wrist, dragging him towards the shuttle bus terminal. “I’m granted limited time and I’ve been counting down to this day for over a year.”

Fuck. Soonyoung shut his eyes, allowing himself to be carried away in Mingyu’s grasp. Mingyu smelled like rubber. Like dirt. He smelled unfamiliar, yet in a way that Soonyoung wanted to get accustomed to.

Whoever came up with ‘out of sight, out of mind’ was a complete liar.

Like him.

 

◆

 

“Jokbal.” Soonyoung deadpanned unimpressively. “I give you a chance to eat anything you want—and you go for pig feet.”

“Don’t judge, pig feet is Seoul’s pride and blessing.” Mingyu said defensively through a mouthful. The soy-sauce braised meat tasted like heaven. Stuffing his mouth some more, he sighed contentedly, “Eating regular food out at a regular restaurant with you makes me feel like a regular person again.”

Soonyoung crinkled his nose, intertwining his fingers and propping his chin on his hands to observe Mingyu more comfortably.

“What do they feed you in there?” He watched with mild fascination as Mingyu wrapped a large lettuce leaf over three pieces of jokbal and crammed it into his mouth. “Bibimbap in a toothpaste?”

Exempted from military service due to unavoidable circumstances—otherwise known as Kim Mingyu himself—Soonyoung had experienced only about a month of basic training.1

Mingyu emptied out a quarter of his rice bowl with one spoonful. “Oh, no. They serve real food.” He attempted poorly between chews.

Soonyoung’s narrow eyes squinted even further. It was these sort of moments that had Mingyu wondering how in the world he knew it was _because_ Soonyoung understood him, and not because he didn’t. Like how he knew Soonyoung’s patience was running out when he sucked in his cheeks to torture them between his teeth. But he just _knew_ , knew Soonyoung would never stop, despite the number of times he told him that the tender spot would be sore later on, so he finished in a muffle, “Food—cooked by soldiers.”

“Ah.” Air deflated out of Soonyoung’s cheeks, a burst of giggles enveloping Mingyu like a cloud of butterflies swarming into his stomach. Like magic, he didn’t feel so starved anymore.

“And you? How have you been, hyung?” Mingyu fixed his posture, swallowing the food in his mouth. As if to gobble _him_ up. Digest it so that he could consume the fleeting moment and make it his. “Or should I say, Manager Kwon?”

A bright soundless smile blossomed across Soonyoung’s face.

“Congratulations on that promo, hyung. You deserved it more than anybody else.”

“Thanks.” Soonyoung grinned. “I guess all those late nights alone in the office weren’t for nothing.”

Putting down his chopsticks, Mingyu returned Soonyoung’s smile with a solemn pinch of his eyebrows.

“Alright, this is your only chance.” He said in all seriousness. “You can ask me for one thing, _anything,_ and I’ll do it whatever it is.”

Soonyoung crunched on a baby cucumber, amused. “What?”

“It’s not like I have money on me—obviously—and this is the only thing I can do for you.”

Mingyu tugged Soonyoung’s sleeve when the older male swung back with a chuckle. He gave another curt tug—less discreet this time—and Soonyoung’s crescent eyes instantly latched onto his.

“I’m serious.” The butterflies soared, their wings grazing ticklishly against his heart. “It’s my congratulatory present to you.”

Soonyoung’s eyelashes flit up, eyes searching. His mouth formed an ‘o’ when he realized that Mingyu wasn’t joking.

“You don’t have to—”

“Hyung.” Mingyu really meant it. “Anything.”

Soonyoung stuffed the rest of the cucumber into his mouth. Mingyu let him go, picking up his chopsticks again and suddenly inclined to jab at a piece of pork bone. The buzzing noise around them amplified with people chatting and laughing. Silverwares and plates clanked against each other. Voices boomed, calling for aunties and young waiters.

“I got it.”

Soonyoung jerked abruptly and his spoon fell off its plate. With a hesitant swipe of his tongue, his lips cracked open.

“Can I try that on?”

Mingyu blinked in confusion, his gaze trailing after the end of Soonyoung’s index finger. The only thing he could see was his own khaki and army-green cuffs. Did Soonyoung mean…

“This?” Mingyu asked, half-convinced that he’d understood him wrong. “My uniform?”

Soonyoug nodded, a splash of pink spreading over his cheeks when Mingyu stared at him in disbelief.

“I know this sounds insane—and I don’t blame you if you want to shove that bone down my throat—but I’ve had my own envision of the military ever since I was ten and my taekwondo instructor told us exaggerated tales about how much of a hero he was in there,” Soonyoung sputtered, his entire face burning with heat and making the red peppers on the table look less vibrant. “—which I now realize was probably all made up.”

Soonyoung bit down the rest of his words, the blush on his face doing more than enough blaring to fill the lull between them.

One, two, three seconds passed by and Mingyu couldn’t hold it in anymore. He doubled over laughing, raucously enough to attract the attention of the people sitting around them. Soonyoung glared at him resentfully.

“You know what, forget it.” He muttered. “You said _anything_ , and— oh my god, will you please shut up?”

“I’m sorry, hyung, I’m just—” Mingyu wheezed, trying to catch his breath. The butterflies were dancing around in his stomach, whirling up a tiny storm. “I can’t believe out of anything you could ask for, _that’s_ what you want—”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows drew together into a frown. His cheeks bloated, the tails of his eyes winding up sharply and lips jutting out. Even irritation was a look that worked on him.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Mingyu almost choked on his own spit, trying to swallow down the laughter that was still bubbling above his throat. “That’s a valid wish. Makes total sense.”

“It _does_.” Soonyoung snapped. The chair screeched against the floor as he promptly stood up. “Well?” He demanded as Mingyu massaged down his cheeks, his jaws starting to hurt from laughing so much. Soonyoung looked unforgiving, the shade of red still pooled over his cheeks. “Get up, Kim Mingyu. You promised.”

 

◆

 

It wasn’t so funny once they changed. Not when Mingyu had no other choice but to wear Soonyoung’s clothes after giving his uniform pants, jacket, and boots away. The shirt wasn’t even close to being a problem—sure, it was tight enough to itch his neck from time to time but he could deal with that—compared to the jeans that hung awkwardly above his ankles. The length was almost tragically comical—too long to pass off as a capris and too short to ignore. The latter was confirmed when a teenage boy shot Mingyu a judgmental stare before exiting the washroom.

Soonyoung chewed on his cheeks, in vain efforts to stop snickers from escaping his mouth.

“…Hyung, I look ridiculous.” Mingyu dug his feet into Soonyoung’s sneakers, creases etching between his brows as the shoe enclosed around his feet. “My ankles feel so exposed. I feel completely naked.”

“Haven’t you heard of cropped trousers?” Soonyoung’s voice was practically dripping with mirth. “Pretend you’re G-Dragon. The innovator of all fashion trends.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to complain, but all of it disappeared on the tip of his tongue when he saw Soonyoung’s grin, stunningly bright and boyish. It was an unconscious effort, something that could never be made up, born from the pure joy of having a long-time wish granted. While Soonyoung was busy examining himself in the mirror, Mingyu was twice as busy—seeing Soonyoung and… seeing Soonyoung. Looking snug and comfortable under Mingyu’s military uniform, he looked excited as a child. The jacket hung loosely over his shoulders, sleeves rolled up, the extra hem of the pants easily stuffed inside the black boots.

Other than the fact that it was loosely fit, the clothes wrapped around him so naturally. And Mingyu was assured that he wasn’t the only one who thought so, when the owner of the restaurant clicked her tongue as Soonyoung took out his wallet to pay for their meal.

“You’re making your soldier friend pay?” The middle-aged lady commented offhandedly, darting him a _look_ and smiling fondly at the man in the uniform before Mingyu could come up with some sort of an excuse. She grabbed a handful of candy off the counter and slipped them in Soonyoung’s palms. “Thank you, sweetheart, for protecting our country.”

Soonyoung burst out laughing as soon as the restaurant door closed behind them.

“You should’ve seen the look on your face— That was so funny, oh my _god_ —”

“I’m beginning to feel like there was a lot more at stake when I proposed this.” Mingyu huffed, crossing his arms and waiting for Soonyoung to wipe away his tears. “In my defense, you do realize you look pretty young for your age, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Soonyoung replied breathily, “You’re the one that always had people thinking you were older.”

Mingyu grinned. Watched the waves of Soonyoung’s heaving chest die down.

Soonyoung smiled back.

Sometimes, when Soonyoung smiled, the world seemed to halt for a brief second before resuming in slow motion. In the crowded street, standing amidst a crowd of people intruding their space, the world ran slowly. Ran. Slowly. It didn’t make sense but neither did other things Soonyoung was capable of. Like his power to fade everything except himself, into a colourless, muted blur. Mingyu murmured mindlessly.

“Works both ways, doesn’t it.”

It unpaused the reality that’d been put on hold. People’s footsteps fast-forwarded to regular time. Colour and sound rushed back. A bunch of pop songs blasting from different stores mashed together to create an ambient drone. Soonyoung hadn’t heard him. He could tell by the way his eyebrow flexed questioningly.

“—’s nothing.” Mingyu waved it off.

He approached Soonyoung in one swift stride, draping his arms around the elder’s shoulder as he maneuvered him through the bustling roads of Seoul.

Throughout the years, Mingyu had learned to master his laid-back tone. He’d gotten the hang of securing anything from leaking out, slipping out by accident, and covering it up with feigned composure— _feigned_ , because at moments like these it just felt like he was walking on thin ice.

It took lots of time. And practice.

Mingyu stopped in front of a small arcade, making Soonyoung teeter back at the sudden rebound.

“Hyung, wanna?” He nudged his elbow towards the arcade. “For every round I win, we switch clothing again.”

“Seriously? It’s literally been what, five minutes—” Soonyoung began, his voice lacing with lilt when a familiar tune—a Naruto theme song—perked his ears. “Fine, bring it on.”

He hit Mingyu’s upper arm with the back of his hand.

A casual gesture.

“But you aren’t getting a single boot back.”

It was probably meant to be a casual gesture. Yet, there was so much _awkward_ hovering in the air before Soonyoung tore his gaze away and headed inside the arcade.

Mingyu stared after him. Or more like after Soonyoung’s flaming ears and the way he almost tripped over his own feet hurrying inside.

Soonyoung couldn’t have heard him.

…He couldn’t.

The ice was thinning. Rapidly.

 

◆

 

Time, which seemed eternal at the military when following brutally conducted drills, felt like a blink next to Kwon Soonyoung.

The park around Han River was cool after sundown. Soft music played from the speakers. Street lamps shone dimly from above, veiling the night with calm. The trail paths were almost deserted—omit those who were out for a moonlight stroll—given the time of hour. Mingyu peered to the right, where Soonyoung was humming along to the music, occasionally taking small bites out of his apple soda ice pop. A gust of night breeze caressed through Soonyoung’s hair, causing his locks to flutter serenely. Under the moonlight, Soonyoung looked translucent. Mesmerizing. Mingyu didn’t mind the breeze melting his own melon-flavoured ice cream in an alarming speed, as long as it blew to reveal the entirety of Soonyoung’s slanted, pretty eyes.

A sharp burst of pain travelled up his nerves from his toes, and Mingyu was forced out of his trance. He might as well have believed it if someone had sliced off his pinky toe. It was more believable anyway, than him agreeing to play Naruto ever again. Mingyu was still dressed in Soonyoung’s attire from head to toe, which meant that he’d lost every game match in the arcade to be stuck under the shirt that clung onto his skin, the ridiculously short jeans, and shoes that were at least a size too small. He hadn’t really meant to win in the first place—he wasn’t going to take away Soonyoung’s happiness—but he’d planned to control the outcomes on his _own will_ (and maybe win back the boots, at least the boots), not space out wondering whether Soonyoung had heard his stupid comment.

It made a crack snake across the ice, dangerously close to shattering his entire front. He’d been too preoccupied and paranoid with it to pay any actual attention to the games.

Trying not to let the pain in his feet show, Mingyu tried walking differently by putting the pressure on his heels.

It wasn’t the brightest idea. Refusing to listen to his orders, his feet hobbled forth, making him limp a few steps and plop down on the ground with a curt,

“ _Fuck._ ”

Mingyu cursed. Soonyoung shuffled over quickly.

“You okay?” His eyes zipped up and down Mingyu’s body.

“Uh, yeah.” Mingyu’s face warmed with embarrassment. “I’m fine.”

Soonyoung looked dubious. His fingers found their way onto Mingyu’s shoulders, grip tightening when he found Mingyu’s hands massaging over the toe cap of his shoes.

“Mingyu, you’re a fucking idiot.” Soonyoung stated, his soft features hardening and making Mingyu want to brush his frown away. “You could’ve just told me if my shoes were killing you, I had no idea—”

“It’s not, I think I tripped over a rock or something.”

Soonyoung wasn’t buying it.

“Can you walk?”

Truthfully, Mingyu wasn’t sure. But before he could respond, Soonyoung handed him his half-eaten ice pop and crouched down in front of him, his back towards Mingyu.

“Get on.”

Mingyu stared, the melting ice pop dripping onto the concrete.

“What?”

“Get _on_ ,” Soonyoung’s hands by his sides beckoned him impatiently. “I don’t think you can walk even if you get your boots back in this state.”

With Soonyoung’s inviting back taking up his view, Mingyu could feel his entire face flare up. The sensation was rather excruciating, under the unhelpfully crisp air.

“Hyung, I’m bigger than you and I’m probably really heavy—”

“Mingyu-ya.” Soonyoung brusquely cut him off. “I don’t have all day.”

Mingyu looked around. There were no one else around them; just two men crouched one before another in the middle of the park trail. Mingyu gulped, his throat feeling dry. The ice pop pressed absurdly cold inside his cheeks when he put it back in his mouth. He draped his arms over Soonyoung’s shoulders, dangling them awkwardly past Soonyoung’s chin, too apprehensive to wrap them around his neck securely. Soonyoung’s arms slid under his thighs, and Mingyu held his breath as his feet left the ground. Soonyoung started walking, and Mingyu carefully took the ice pop out of his mouth, trying not to shift weight as much as possible.

Soonyoung wasn’t saying anything. And silence was risky. Soonyoung could probably hear his heart going off like fireworks against his back if he gave it a moment.

“I, uh,” Mingyu stuttered, “Regretting it yet?”

Soonyoung flinched, and Mingyu realized his mouth was too close to Soonyoung’s nape. He drew his chin back, distracted by the goosebumps that arose distinctly on the back of Soonyoung’s neck.

“You don’t have to, hyung, I’m heavy, I know. I mean, you didn’t eat much and I had like five servings of meat all by myself…”

“Of course you’re heavy.” Soonyoung said quietly. “You’re taller than me. You eat more than me. You…”

Soonyoung stopped in his tracks, bumping Mingyu further up before taking a step again.

“You’re a grown man.”

Feigned composure. Feigned composure. Feigned— _fuck_ , the ice was cracking.

Soonyoung rolled his left shoulder, trying to nudge without a free hand. “Mingyu, the ice cream’s melting in your hands.”

And so was the ice.

“Here, I’ll direct you to my mouth and I’ll finish off mine.”

“Okay.” Mingyu tried to keep up.

“Lower your arm,” Soonyoung directed, “A little to the right, I said right, you dummy— Yeah, a bit more, now bring it closer…”

Mingyu complied, until there was a sudden ring of a bicycle bell. A bike with a small blinking light dashed past them, throwing Soonyoung off guard and causing him to lose balance. It was a small stumble, but with Mingyu’s weight on top of him, gravity pulled Soonyoung to plummet to the ground. Mingyu rolled off Soonyoung’s back, staring at the night sky and lying on top of dead grass.

“Ow.” Soonyoung grimaced, sitting not so far away from him and rubbing his ass. “I hope that fucker’s bike chain screws him over and chucks him into the river.”

Mingyu chortled, crawling over on his elbows and resting his head on Soonyoung’s lap. The ice pops had long flung from his hand somewhere in the dark. He sighed contentedly.

“Face it, hyung. Three steps more and you were going to collapse anyways.”

“Rude.” Soonyoung pouted as if to argue against it. He spoke up after a short pause. “…I wouldn’t mind a break though.”

It was so endearing. Mingyu loved it. Loved _him._ Soonyoung looked down at him and grinned, picking a leaf out of his hair. Countless times, Mingyu had fantasized what it would be like to be with Soonyoung forever. Stay as how they were right now. He wasn’t supposed to wish for more.

But greed wasn’t something he could just shut off like a light switch. He couldn’t control _wanting more_. Yearning for more. Greed was like love, but simpler. Pressing his lips against Soonyoung’s lips was greed. Holding back, like the millions of times he’d already had, was something more.

And each time Mingyu swallowed, greed morphed into an intricate and complex form, burdening his heart. The greedier he got, the heavier he felt.

The ice wasn’t strong enough to support him anymore. It shattered and Mingyu fell in.

“Why aren’t you getting married, hyung?”

In glacial waters, there was no such thing as a filter. Soonyoung froze for a brief second, a chuckle fanning Mingyu’s face like apple scented breeze.

“I don’t get married by myself, Mingyu.” He leaned back, two palms canting down to pull at dead grass. “Besides, what crazy woman in South Korea would want to marry a guy with a twenty-one year old attached?”

“Dahee?” Mingyu was word-vomiting at this point. Soonyoung rocked forwards, staring Mingyu down. “…I’ve seen her heart post-its in your bag.”

“Dahee? Jung Dahee?” Soonyoung’s eyes doubled in size. “Oh _god_ , no. She’s a friend. We’re close, yeah, but that’s it.”

Mingyu had known already. He just wanted confirmation.

“That’s good to hear.”

Mingyu’s fingers slid up the front of his uniform jacket, fondling the name tag sewn into the camouflage-patterned fabric. His name tag read ‘Kim Mingyu’ on Soonyoung’s chest. As if Soonyoung belonged to him. Mingyu smoothed it out, watching Soonyoung’s expression change unknowingly.

He took the courage to reach up further, his hand enclosing around Soonyoung’s pulsating neck. Slowly. Cautiously. Sticky from the ice pop, his hand adhered to Soonyoung’s warm skin, Soonyoung’s neck that was sultry with sweat. With an effortless pull, Soonyoung’s gaze locked onto his. It was too dark to see his own reflection in his eyes. Soonyoung’s pupils were inky and endless. Just like the icy, black waters below his kicking feet.

“Mingyu-ya.”

Soonyoung whispered, just audible enough for Mingyu to hear.

“…I don’t think I can ever get married.”

Mingyu tugged gently. ~~~~

“Me too.”

Soonyoung’s head bent forward.

“Hyung.”

Soonyoung was getting closer. And closer.

“Hyung.”

Their lips were merely 10cm apart.

“Kwon Soonyoung.”

5cm.

“Soonyoung-ah.”

“Yeah?”

He smelled like lavender mixed with rubber. Nauseating.

“Those ice pops weren’t spiked.”

A pause.

“I know.”

Soonyoung kissed him, capturing whatever Mingyu had left to say between his lips. They dissolved at the start of his breath, when Soonyoung’s tongue snuck inside his mouth and wiped out of all his thoughts. Mingyu inhaled deeply, sucking Soonyoung’s lower lip that tasted like a warm, spongy apple soda ice pop. His heels dug into the dirt as he tried to raise himself up from Soonyoung’s lap, in need of more, craving to explore Soonyoung deeper.

The kiss was rough at times, tender at the rest. When Soonyoung drew back for air, Mingyu stole a baby kiss to the side of his open mouth. When Mingyu parted to change positions, Soonyoung’s mouth rushed quickly as if to be in a chase, pressing his swelling lips against his. Soonyoung’s fingers got lost amidst his hair, and Mingyu wrapped his hands around Soonyoung’s face. It was burning. They were both burning. Everything was so hot. So much so, that Mingyu thought both of their tongues might burn if the kiss went on any longer. As though to say something, Soonyoung made a noise against his mouth, and Mingyu separated with a last lick on Soonyoung’s front teeth. Soonyoung clutched to the front of Mingyu’s shirt, keeping him close.

“I love you, Mingyu-ya.” Soonyoung dipped forward, his breaths short and lips lingering right above Mingyu’s mouth. “Please tell me it’s not too late.”

Mingyu forgot how to breathe. Soonyoung’s lips were slick and shiny under the moonlight. The grip around his neckline tightened even more, and Mingyu realized it was real. Soonyoung was real. Everything.

“You could never _have been_ late.” He exhaled, “Because I would’ve never stopped loving you, hyung.”

Soonyoung’s smile was the brightest he’d ever seen, and Mingyu closed the gap between them for another kiss. Just to make it clearer. Soonyoung kissed him back, just as eager.

 

 

As if to be treading water for too long, Mingyu sunk.

 

◆◈◆

 

_when are you coming home?_

  
_**Minggu**_  
_late_  
_im sorry soonyoung-ah :(_

  
_but tonight is date night?_  
_do you know how bad it looks to leave early when you’re a manager of an entire floor?_  
_and call me hyung_

  
**_Minggu_**  
_i knowww but you know how incessant sunbaes can be :(_  
_seungcheol hyung’s gonna kill me if i try to get out of this one since i already bailed last time_  
_and it was soonyoungie who couldn’t get out of work that time, remember?_

  
_o so this is my fault now?_  
_and call me hyung_

  
_**Minggu**_  
_im saying we’re even!_  
_im still sorry tho_  
_i forgot how hard social life could be, im still adjusting_  
_i'd rather go back to the army if only i can still see soonyoungie everyday_

  
_sweet talk isn’t going to cut it_  
_do you really need to suck up to this seungcheol guy?_  
_and call me hyung_

  
_**Minggu**_  
_i need to get on his good side if i don’t want to stay as the awkward dude that just came back from the military_  
_i gotta fit in soonyoung-ah_

  
_by drinking like a fish?_  
_that’s stupid and incredibly disappointing for ppl who studied their asses off to get into the most prestigious school in south korea_  
_and if you cut the formalities one more fucking time…_

  
_**Minggu**_  
_there’s more to college than just grades, it’s all about connections now_  
_our soonyoungie must’ve forgot since it’s been ages since you graduated~_

_  
i hate you_

  
_**Minggu**_  
_:(_  
_do you really_  
_soonyoung-ah_  
_soonyoung-ahhhhh_  
_kwon soonyoung_  
_soonie hyung_  
_hyung_  
_hyung?_

 

Soonyoung threw his phone onto the couch, his eyes narrowing at the device that chirped cheerily with each new text.

He knew Mingyu didn’t mean it (he never did), and Soonyoung wasn’t as sensitive to it as he was before, but their age difference was something he couldn’t just pretend it didn’t exist. Especially at times like these when it slapped him across the face out of the blue, tipping him over when he was at least expecting it.

Seriously, was it really necessary? Soonyoung clamped his jaws shut, arms crossing over his chest as his glare on the flashing phone intensified. It was harmless teasing, clearly. He could laugh it off. He laughed it off most of the times. But maybe he was way more disappointed than he’d thought that their date night was cancelled, because Soonyoung didn’t feel like laughing it off. Rather, he felt something swell inside of him, forming a lump just beneath his throat that donned thorns everywhere. As if he’d swallowed a porcupine.

Maybe Mingyu felt their age difference even more often than Soonyoung did. He _had_ to, hanging around people his age all day—and night—to come home to a boyfriend that was nine years older than him, and even then, thrashed by fatigue from work.

Soonyoung anxiously picked on his lips. How long _has_ it been since he graduated? The answer didn’t pop up instantly. He had to _think_ about it.

…Fuck, maybe he really was getting old.

Soonyoung turned around and stalked to the mirror by the threshold. Scanned his face from side to side. Perhaps he needed a change. Soonyoung grabbed his car keys, flew down the stairs to his car, and peeled out of the parking lot to head to the nearest hair salon. It was impulsive, but a good kind of spontaneity, because Soonyoung could feel the adrenaline rush when the hairdresser flapped the drape over him and asked,

“What can I do for you today?”

“Colour, please.” Soonyoung answered quickly, “Bleach blond.”

 

◆

 

Dating Kim Mingyu was hard.

Hours later, and his scalp was still stinging like hell from bleaching it five insufferable times. Soonyoung looked into his own reflection in the elevator mirror, rubbing his new blond hair between his fingers. It felt coarse like hay, damaged and practically disintegrating into thin air. He made a face. The hairdresser had assured him he looked at least five years younger, too over-exaggerated to be true.

As expected, the house was empty. Soonyoung marched into his room, opening his closet and digging through piles of clothes until he found what he was looking for. Soonyoung had considered going shopping, but not only was he clueless on what the latest trends were, but there wasn’t anything more perfect than his school uniform that would do the job of automatically making him look ‘young’. There was amusement in it really, when school uniforms weren’t that different from his usual suit attire, yet they could rewind time just for the sake of being school uniforms.

It just didn’t occur to him that he’d grown out of it. Soonyoung winced when his pant zipper refused to go up. He’d gotten taller, and he’d put on some more weight. Soonyoung sighed, scrunching the clothing up into a ball until he had another idea. He paced into Mingyu’s room, rummaging through drawers until he’d found Mingyu’s high school uniform. It fit snugly, and Soonyoung toyed around with the tie when he heard his front door open. Soonyoung’s eyes flit to the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was eleven in the evening. Late, but in no way was Mingyu going to be home for another couple of hours. Soonyoung hurried out, hands searching for his phone until he realized he hadn’t had the device for a while.

But by then it was too late, his feet had already taken him outside, and Soonyoung came face to face with a breathless, sweaty Mingyu.

“Where the hell—” Mingyu began, stopping short and reconstructing his question when he saw Soonyoung’s hair. “What the hell happened to your hair?”

“Uh,” Soonyoung blanked, “do you like it?”

Mingyu stood stiff as a robot.

“I don’t know. I’m still processing the immediate fact that you have—” He stopped briefly, jaws going slack as if it finally clicked. He gawked. “You’re platinum blond.”

His eyes dislodged itself from Soonyoung’s hair, descending down the newly blond’s entire form.

“And you’re wearing my high school uniform.” Mingyu stated the obvious.

“How old do I look?” Soonyoung gnawed on his lips nervously.

“What?” Mingyu croaked.

“Think I can pass off as, I don’t know,” Soonyoung drawled, “Your… friend?”

“Oh my god.” Mingyu blanched. “This isn’t because of _this,_ is it?” He stretched out his hand, shoving Soonyoung’s phone in his face.

_our soonyoungie must’ve forgot since it’s been ages since you graduated~_

Soonyoung’s stomach lurched. His heart pumped hot blood up to his face, and he could actually feel the outbreak of heat as he trudged over to the couch. He slumped down, embarrassment taking over any kind of emotion he was feeling up until then.

“This is fucking embarrassing.” Soonyoung muttered. He looked up, a sudden surge of anger shooting towards Mingyu who merely stood there, ogling.

“You’re right, Mingyu, I forgot. I forgot because it really _was_ a fucking long time ago, and I realized how old I was. How old _er_ I was, to be exact. How the hell am I supposed to compete with all the fresh meat you hang around all day? I cracked, and I dyed my hair.”

Soonyoung spurted, the last bits hitting him hard like steel hammer.

“Oh my god. I dyed my hair.” He whispered. “Platinum blond!” He shrieked, glaring at Mingyu accusingly. “This is all your fault, how the hell am I supposed to go to work tomorrow?!”

Mingyu was still staring. He responded meekly,

“It was a stupid joke, it didn’t mean anything—”

“Of course it was a joke.” Soonyoung snapped. “For you. You don’t have to worry about a thing. You have the upper hand here.”

Mingyu’s expression stirred for the first time.

“You think _I_ have the upper hand here?”

He sounded incredulous, brows scrunching up together. “Why do you think I ditched everyone and came home when you didn’t reply? Panicked when you weren’t here, the car wasn’t in the parking lot, but your phone rang from the couch? You—”

Mingyu ran his hands through his sodden bangs, puffing air like a child given unfair treatment. “You have no fucking idea who has the upper hand here, hyung.”

Soonyoung stalled. For time, for excuses, for whatever he needed to win in this argument. The heat on his face remained, for less apparent reasons now.

“So this was done for nothing, then.” He dishevelled his hair, thinking that it might actually start falling off his head if he got rougher with it.

Mingyu approached him closer. He touched Soonyoung’s hair, letting the blond strands entwine between his fingers.

“…I wouldn’t say that.” From gently rubbing his roots, Mingyu’s hand slid down to tip his chin up. His eyes lidded as his gaze travelled further down his old school uniform, the white shirt and tie loose around Soonyoung’s bare neck.

“You look amazing,” He finished weakly, “…Soonyoung-ah.”

Normally, Soonyoung would’ve kicked Mingyu’s ass. But to be fair he was wearing Mingyu’s high school uniform, and wasn’t this the plan all along?

So Soonyoung decided to try something new.

“Thanks, hyung.” He smiled.

Mingyu didn’t react, and for a second Soonyoung thought he’d made a mistake. He tentatively cracked his lips open, when Mingyu swooped down and firmly pressed his mouth against his. Caught Soonyoung’s lower lip between his teeth, kissing him and kissing him while his hands roamed into Soonyoung’s hair and thumb pressed over Soonyoung’s ears—

“Ow, fuck,” Soonyoung jerked away, hands cupping over the sharp, burning pain.

Mingyu blinked in awe.

“You pierced your ears?”

“One on each.” Soonyoung shrunk. “Should I take them out?”

Mingyu carefully removed Soonyoung’s hands, scrutinizing the two tiny black cubes that adorned Soonyoung’s bright earlobes. He grinned, eyes glistening.

“My god, you _so_ have the upper hand.”

Mingyu wrapped his hand around Soonyoung’s neck again, attentive not to touch the piercings, trailing baby kisses from his lips over to his ears that still fizzed like coke.

“Keep it.”

Mingyu whispered, hauling Soonyoung up and dragging him towards his bedroom.

“Sure, hyung.” Soonyoung laughed, pushing the younger male down on the bed and straddling him between his thighs. Mingyu pulled him by the tie, kissing him deeply.

“Soonyoung-ah, help.” His fingers clumsily fumbled around the front of his shirt, searching for buttons to undo. “My heart’s beating way too fast, this can’t be normal.”

“I can’t help you, _hyung,_ ” Soonyoung emphasized, “when mine’s about to explode.” 

Mingyu groaned, kissing every bit of Soonyoung’s insecurities away. Maybe dyeing his hair wasn’t such a total waste of time.

Neither was the four years of trying to defy his feelings.

Dating Mingyu was hard, but loving him was so easy.

 

 

◆◈◆

 

 

 End.

1 Because Soonyoung had a dependent person (Mingyu) at the time of his draft, he was exempted from regular military duties to a public service position at a local government office. Soonyoung lived at home with Mingyu during his time of service, going to work every morning and coming home after.

**Author's Note:**

> well that's it, folks :')   
>  1\. hope that the timeskip/flashback/pov change thing wasn't too choppy;;   
>  2\. this was the slowest thing i've ever written and i wouldn't have blamed you if you gave up midway... for realz   
>  3\. SO THANK YOU FOR READING♥   
>  any comments or feedback are welcome! i thrive on them tbh :)


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